


Even a Lifetime Isn't Enough

by enthusiasmgirl



Category: Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (2012)
Genre: 1991, Captain America: Civil War (Movie) Spoilers, Character Death, F/M, HIV/AIDS, Howard Starks A+ Parenting, Maria Stark's A+ Parenting, Mental Health Issues, Nick Fury is a Secretive Bastard, Period-Typical Homophobia, Steve Feels, Substance Abuse, Time Travel, Time is a Timey Wimey Wibbley Wobbley Ball of Stuff, Tony Feels, Tony Stark Has Mommy Issues, Tony Stark's Childhood, the Strategic Scientific Reserve, the tesseract - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-06-29
Updated: 2016-05-07
Packaged: 2017-12-16 12:47:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 29
Words: 74,381
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/862189
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/enthusiasmgirl/pseuds/enthusiasmgirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A Tesseract signal is discovered by the Avengers and SHIELD out in the Arctic which pulls the team back in time and forces them to confront things that they had long thought were in the past, and look towards a future that they may not want to go back to. </p><p>What secrets is Nick Fury hiding from the team? </p><p>What will Tony do when he's faced with the opportunity to correct his biggest regrets and face people he thought he'd long ago buried?</p><p>Can Steve handle finding himself once again a man out of time?</p><p>NOTE: Author's note added, and now with Civil War spoilers. :)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first fanfiction in years, and my first in the MCU, so please be kind. It is also unbeta'd. I hope to update once a week at least.
> 
> I always feel like fics tend to oversimplify Tony's relationship with Howard as abusive or violent, which never made sense to me given what we see of his relationship with Steve in Captain America. I also wanted to do a bit of a different take on Edwin Jarvis. The result is this fic.
> 
> I am a big fan of the comics, however this story will very strictly take place in the MCU only to simplify things. I've left it open ended so that it could take place either before or after IM3, depending on your imagination. In other words, only very vague spoilers.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Clint is hasn't had enough caffeine to deal with the day yet, Bruce exists solely to calm Tony down, and Steve has just gotten some upsetting news.

**ARCTIC CIRCLE - AUGUST 12, 2014 11:45AM**

Clint could feel it. He knew that if he were to tell his SHIELD-mandated psychiatrist that little fact once he was safely back home, bombarded by the strangely comforting buzzing fluorescent lights of the Triskelion, that the psychiatrist would tell him he was imagining things. That the events surrounding Loki's invasion of New York City were two years ago, and that there were galaxies between him and the source of his anxiety. But now, out in the blinding white brightness of the long Arctic daylight, he knew he could feel it, the closer he got to it. The subtle magical pull of the Tesseract.

 

* * *

 

**SHIELD HEADQUARTERS, NYC - AUGUST 12, 2014 6:30AM**

It had all gone downhill from the moment he had woken up that morning. From the moment he'd woken up to the sound of his cell phone colliding violently with his stainless steel nightstand. Natasha was calling.

"Hmmph" he said, rolling over and retrieving his cell phone as it clattered to the floor. If she wanted intelligent conversation and sentences with multiple words in them, she shouldn't have woken him up at 6:30 in the morning.

"I hate to interrupt your beauty rest, but we're assembling at the Tower. Something's happened and we need you" she said. The woman didn't do small talk. Which relieved Clint in this case, because when she did it was never really as small as it seemed.

"Whah?" replied Clint, still half asleep, pulling his pants on.

"I'll give you more details when you get here. Just get here."

Again, the woman was nothing if not succinct. The conversation over, Clint dressed and moved to exit, nearly dropping the cell phone when it began to buzz again. "Yep?" he asked.

"Barton," came the unmistakably firm tone of Director Fury on the other end, "we need you immediately. Get your ass down here." And the line went dead. Fury was the only person Clint knew who could match Natasha for least information provided in a conversation.

Barton wondered for a moment how incensed Fury would be if he went to the Tower first. He had no doubt that the calls were related, but was not sure how Fury would behave if he thought Clint was loyal to the Avengers before SHIELD. Ever since Steve had decided to stand behind Tony in establishing the Avengers as an independent entity separate from SHIELD several months ago, Clint had found himself caught between the two organizations on more than one occasion. Today, however, he was too tired to face Fury's wrath or worry about protecting Natasha. Besides, he was already at SHIELD HQ and Clint was nothing if not lazy when he wanted to be.

He texted Natasha a quick message. "Getting briefed on situation by Fury. Will stop by after". Hopefully the others wouldn't be too mad. They usually understood. He knew this time would be different when he entered the briefing room to find Tony already looking ready to pounce through the holographic screen, backed by the rest of the Avengers.

"...understand what this signal could mean. The fact that you're so eager to throw men at it makes me really wonder what's behind that eagerness, Nicky. Don't think that we've forgotten exactly what you were trying to harness the power of the Tesseract for the last time you had it under your control, or exactly how it blew up in your face. Or, really, the faces of dozens of your agents who happened to be caught in the middle of your bad decision, including Barton. If you think that we're going to stand by while you..."

It was then that Tony noticed Clint enter the room, which distracted the man with a natural ease that always disarmed anyone else trying to maintain a conversation with him. "... well hey there Barton," he said with a sudden smile, "we were just talking about you. Would you mind telling the good Director here exactly how much fun it was dancing like a puppet with the Tesseract pulling your strings, or how much you would really love to not go through it again because he never learned that those who don't pay attention to history are doomed to repeat it?"

"Excuse me?" said Clint, reaching the point of two word sentences. He could work his way up to more once he'd had a Red Bull or two.

Before Tony could continue to ramble at his usual breakneck pace, Natasha interrupted. "JARVIS picked up a signal that matched the signal given off by the Tesseract at 3:38 this morning and alerted us. The signal originated in the Arctic, not far from the site where Steve was discovered two years ago."

"Loki?" Clint asked, his heart rate accelerating quickly.

"We don't know. Thor is on Asgard and communication with him there has never been consistent. You know that." Natasha replied, radiating calm as though she knew how much he needed it.

"That's the problem, isn't it" replied Fury smugly. "You don't know."

"And you think you do?" Tony asked. And from the look on Fury's face, Clint was reminded of Tony's frequent assertion that the man was the bearer of secrets upon secrets.

"I have an idea. Not that I have any reason to share it with you, seeing as how you didn't see fit to share your information with me. Don't think that there won't be repercussions for the fact that you didn't contact us the moment you were alerted to the signal. Or that you refuse to send your data. You're just lucky that we've been keeping such a close eye on you."

"Right," said Tony, "a close eye. I suppose we should be thankful that it's just the one. Not that it matters. I'm having JARVIS have another look at the Tower's security protocols. That should be enough to turn us the small amount it will take to get us out of your line of vision." He gestured covering an eye and turning slightly to bring his insult home. Clint couldn't help but notice Maria Hill, standing as always by Fury's side, smirk a bit at that one.

"It doesn't matter. This signal is officially SHIELD business. The Avengers aren't needed. I'm sending a team out there to take a look. I'll even meet you half way. Barton will lead it. You trust him, don't you, Stark?"

Clint's heart felt like it would pound out of his chest. "Seriously?"

Tony looked as though he was about to tell Fury where he could shove his supposed compromise, but was cut off by the steely voice of Captain America. Not Steve Rogers. This was definitely the Captain speaking.

"That sounds fair. We'll stay out of it for now, provided that Barton remains in contact with both us and SHIELD about what he finds. Are you up to it, Clint?"

"Ummm..." Clint said, not up to it at all, but also hesitant to say no to Steve when the man's voice held so much confidence in him. "Yeah. I'll be alright."

"Good," said Steve. "Stay safe and stay in touch. This conversation is over, Director."

And that was it. The screen went dead before Clint had a chance to properly absorb what had just happened. Five hours later, having been shocked awake and thrown on a plane with a team of experienced SHIELD field agents following his every order, he would swear that he could feel the Tesseract. And he told himself that in the future, he wouldn't be so lazy, and would always go to the Tower first.

 

* * *

 

**STARK TOWER, NYC - AUGUST 12, 2014 6:45AM**

The moment that the SHIELD briefing room no longer appeared on the screen, Tony swung around to face Steve, a surprised look on his face. "So, what's the plan, Cap?"

"What plan?" asked Steve.

"The plan in which we all suit up and back Barton up while also getting under Fury's skin..." Tony said, impatiently.

"There is no plan, Tony. Fury's right. This is SHIELD business, for now. He offered to send a team to look into the signal. He agreed to Clint keeping in contact with us. Clint can handle himself" Steve told him.

This surprised Natasha. "Can he, Captain? You know what he went through the last time the Tesseract was on Earth. If Loki has returned, or if the Tesseract has made its way here again, do you really think that Clint is the person best suited to handle that situation? Tony's right. We should be there to back him up."

At this, Steve got quiet and seemed to fold in on himself, which was concerning to the others. "Fine," he said. "The three of you can back him up if you want to. Fury won't be happy, but if you don't trust me to make that call then that's up to you. But I won't be able to be with you on this one."

After remaining silent and invisible throughout the conversation with Fury, Bruce chose this moment to remind the group of his presence, calm and concerned as it always was. "Are you alright, Steve? Is there something wrong?"

"Oh shit!" Tony interrupted. "The Arctic! The place where you experienced your own personal ice age!" You could always count on Bruce's quiet compassion to bring Tony's obnoxious obliviousness to other people's emotions into focus. "Well, there's definitely places in the world that you'd have to drag me kicking and screaming back to, so I can see where you're coming from on that one."

"It's not that" Steve said, embarrassed that his team thought he was so weak as to be bothered by the ice after all this time. "I just... I trust that Clint can handle this. I do. And I also know that I'm in no state of mind to be of any use right now."

"Why is that, Steve?" asked Natasha.

"It's personal and I'd rather not talk about it." Steve replied in a tone that held no room for continued discussion. With that, he headed towards the elevator towards the gym, needing to rid himself of his frustration.

"Geez, what's got his star-spangled undies in a bunch?" Tony asked, irritated.

"Whatever it is, he's right. It's none of our business." Natasha reminded him.

"The hell it's not. He's living in my Tower. Everything that goes on in my Tower is my business..." Tony said.

"Tony..." Bruce tried to interrupt, the voice of reason, but Tony's mind was already off and running.

"... and JARVIS's business! JARVIS!" he called to his AI.

"Tony..." Bruce tried again.

"Yes, sir" came the omnipresent voice.

"Have you observed anything recently that could contribute to Captain Rogers lousy mood?" Tony asked.

"You realize that this isn't exactly making me feel welcome or at home here" Natasha pointed out, having only recently moved in. "Even SHIELD HQ at least allowed the illusion of privacy."

"Yeah, well, this will be a nice learning experience for our dear naive Captain," Tony said as he walked behind the penthouse bar to pour himself a drink to take the edge off. "Welcome to the 21st century - privacy no longer exists. If you're mad about it, vent on Twitter."

"Tony..." Bruce tried a third time. It seemed like these sorts of interactions were the story of Bruce's life now. Natasha just fumed quietly.

"Actually, sir," JARVIS broke the tension, as he was used to doing. "Captain Rogers did receive a rather unusual visitor yesterday afternoon."

"Oh..." said Tony, interested.

"Yes, sir. It was a lawyer dealing with the estate of a Margaret Carter. Apparently, Captain Rogers presence is requested in the United Kingdom to assist with the funeral and settling her estate."

"Wait," said Tony. "Peggy Carter died?"

"Who?" asked Bruce.

"Someone Steve knew during the war," Tony replied. "She was friends with my dad. I met her a couple of times growing up," he added as an explanation of how he knew who she was. "It's not surprising she passed away, more that she was still alive actually. And that Steve contacted her. I guess I just always figured Steve was the type to let sleeping dogs lie when it came to his past."

"Maybe not..." said Bruce.

"I'm gonna talk to him." Tony decided.

"What?" and "Are you crazy?" were the twin reactions he received to this from Natasha and Bruce. He was in the elevator, scotch still in hand, before they could stop him.

"This should be good." Bruce said, massaging the bridge of his nose with his fingers to keep the oncoming headache at bay for just a little while longer.

 

* * *

 

**STARK TOWER, NYC - AUGUST 12, 2014 7:03AM**

Having established with JARVIS that Steve was currently pounding his way through every specially reinforced punching bag in the Tower's elaborate gym, Tony was determined to confront the man about his attitude. Which was ironic, because usually he was the one being confronted for having the attitude problem. Usually, by Steve.

Tony supposed that he was really the last person to be giving Steve the "No man is an island, you don't have to do this alone" speech. However, after nearly dying of Palladium poisoning alone, and then trying (and ultimately failing) to salvage his relationship with Pepper while dealing with his post-Loki anxiety alone, he had realized the value in surrounding yourself with people who understood at least some small piece of what you were going through. And in this case, Tony was certain he did. Besides, it still irritated him that he had very nearly been denied the opportunity to be an Avenger because he supposedly didn't play well with others. Maybe it was true, but he could damn well try.

He was ambushed on his way to the gym, however, by an equally determined Pepper Potts. He wasn't surprised to see her up this early. Pepper always believed that the early bird got the worm. Unfortunately for her, this meant that usually Tony was going to bed as she was waking up.

Tony could tell, even though he knew that Pepper made sure no one else could, that she was stressed. Her heels clicked together at a pace that was just too quick, and her red hair was just slightly frayed in the front ends. Pepper always chewed her hair when she was stressed. It still made Tony's heart lurch a little to think that someone else might one day get to know her that well. That it was no longer his responsibility to ease her mind or soothe her stress.

"Miss Potts," Tony said without slowing down. Best to keep things professional, yet playful. It was familiar, and it made things less painful.

"Mr. Stark," Pepper said, playing along. "Do you have a minute?"

"For you," Tony said, "Always." And he meant it. He knew he always would.

Pepper smiled. Just slightly, but it was there. "I need you to sign the Hong Kong paperwork and sign off on the new Starkphone prototypes. I also need to know how you want me to handle the announcement about the Kiev factory."

"Yeah, no problem." He took the clipboard and pen in her hand from her. "Is that all? Usually, you have me sit behind a mountain of paperwork. One clipboard feels like getting off easy."

Pepper got quiet for a moment, observing him as he paused to lean the clipboard against a hallway wall and scrawl his signature on what she needed. "I know that we're broken up now..." she started, and Tony's body language stiffened. "But I want you to know that I didn't forget the date today. If you need me, I'm here."

"Here for what? Crap, would we have had an anniversary today? Is that what this is?" he said. He was put out because he genuinely couldn't remember. Despite his genius, she was always the brains of their relationship.

"Tony. It's August 12th," she said.

And that's when it hit him like a tidal wave. August 12th. The anniversary of his parents' death. Damn.

"Right. Yeah. No, I'm... I'm fine, Pep. Honestly, I didn't even remember until you just told me, so I'm obviously over it. Don't worry about it."

By now, they were at the gym. He could see Steve inside, the intensity radiating off of him in waves. "Here you go," he said, the conversation over. He handed her the clipboard and walked inside, ignoring her when she followed him in reminding him she still needed to discuss the Kiev factory with him.

"Hey, Cap," he yelled, heading towards the man, leaving Pepper waiting inside the door. "Am I gonna have to replace every punching bag in this place? Again?" Steve didn't stop and didn't respond. Tony should have taken this as a warning, but he didn't. He always got a little reckless when was thrown off-kilter. At least more than he usually was, which was saying something.

"You know you might have mentioned that the love of your life just died. We might've gone easier on you up there. Dealing with a death like that gives you an automatic free pass when it comes to the judgment of others." Damned Pepper, reminding him of the date. He couldn't help but remember how true his own words had been when applied to his actions following his parents' death all those years ago. And how much he regretted what he'd done with that freedom.

His own thoughts were shattered by the sound of a punching bag coming unhinged and flying across the gym. Which gave Steve no one to take his mood out on except Tony. "What the hell is wrong with you? I don't even want to know how you found out, but I told you that my business is personal. It doesn't concern you Stark!"

Bruce and Natasha now joined Pepper in the gym doorway, observing the scene.

"It damn well does concern me. Because we're all Avengers now, and you're supposed to be the guy we follow into battle. Which means we have to trust you and know what's going on in your head, Rogers."

"Steve..." Bruce started, trying to calm the situation without the Other Guy having to make an appearance. Bruce knew all too well from his own experiences that situations like this could escalate quickly. Normally, he would have avoided a tense situation like this if he could, but he'd spent so many years alone. He wouldn't allow the Avengers to fight or fall apart if he could help it.

"You don't have to know this, Tony," Steve yelled, angry. "You can trust me without me having to open up every part of myself to you. You may think you're entitled to anything you want, but you're not entitled to know me, Tony. You have to earn the right. And you have to give back in kind. And God knows, we don't know a damned thing about you besides what anybody could read about on a newsstand."

"I have to earn the right?" Tony yelled back at Steve, reacting without thinking in response to how much Steve's comments stung. "Excuse me, but you're living in my Tower aren't you? I'm funding this whole goddamned operation, aren't I? I'm out there every time the Avengers are needed, and I've always got your back, haven't I? So don't talk to me about what I've earned, Captain Hypocrite. You're not exactly taking the time to try to get to know me, either. What, are you afraid that I'll spoil the memory of my old man for you? That you'll learn something you don't want to?"

Whether the fight would have escalated past that or not would never be known for sure, because at that moment an electric blue light enveloped those in the room, and a persistent hum could be heard. Before JARVIS could even sound an alarm, Tony tasted the familiar coconut flavour he associated with his new arc reactor starting up for the first time, and all five occupants of the gym had what Natasha would describe later as an "out of body experience", and when they came crashing back to reality the stainless steel decor of the Tower's modern gym had been replaced by the dingy grey of an empty warehouse. They had been transported.

Steve collapsed to his knees in shock. Bruce, to his credit, quickly began his breathing exercises to prevent the Other Guy from being unleashed. Natasha could only nervously approach him to mutter soothing words and hope that he was successful. Pepper leaned against a wall and retched, before seeming to compose herself. Tony ran to her side, trembling, anxiety lacing its way through his body.

Natasha gave everyone a moment to compose themselves before asking the obvious question. "Where are we?"

 

* * *

 

**ARCTIC CIRCLE - AUGUST 12, 2014 3:30PM**

Clint was not happy. He'd come all the way out to the middle of the Arctic and was freezing his butt off. He had his team scouring the area for hours for any sign of the Tesseract signal that had been registered there, but there was nothing. The mission was a bust.

He was about to order his men to begin the long trek back to the base camp they had set up when he felt a tremor at his feet. The ice began to crack underneath him, and the snow began to shift. Was it an avalanche? If not, it soon would be.

He yelled for his men to do what they could, to find some sort of cover or stick together as the earth shook. But before he could formulate any kind of organized response to the situation, he felt the ice underneath him give way and found himself moaning in pain a good 10-15 feet below where he had been a moment ago. He was sitting on, and surrounded on all sides by, a thick wall of ice. He could not move his left leg, and in the dim light of the Arctic moon he thought he could see bone sticking up through his clothing. He could definitely feel the blood pooling over his knee.

An agent who had fallen next to him, Clint recalled that his name was Sitorsky, stared in awe behind Clint. He appeared to be in better shape than Clint, although it was hard to tell. "Sir," he said, "look." Sitorsky grabbed his fallen flashlight and shone it behind Clint's head. When he turned, he could make out the distinct shape of a metal door with a pressure lock and the familiar logo of SHIELD.

"I don't remember anything in our briefing about there being a SHIELD base out here." Sitorsky said.

"That's because there isn't supposed to be one," said Clint. Nick Fury and his damned secrets.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which a door opens, the team discovers where they ended up, and Tony panics.

**ARCTIC CIRCLE - AUGUST 12, 2014 3:35PM**

"Come on..." Clint said into his cell phone, Stark-issued and therefore able to get a signal even in the middle of the Arctic, "...pick up the damn phone, guys." The ringing was irritating him.

"Hello, you've reached Stark Tower. How may I assist you?" asked a familiar calm British voice. It still freaked Clint out that Tony had designed his AI to sound so human. After all, how could a computer have a regional accent? It weirded Clint out, which said something because Clint's life was already pretty weird.

"JARVIS, it's Clint Barton. I need to speak with one of the other Avengers right away."

"I'm afraid that the Avengers are unavailable at the moment, sir,"

"Unavailable?" That didn't sound right. He had assumed they'd be ready to back him up if he needed it. He'd called them before SHIELD this time, after all. He'd learned his lesson about going to Fury or SHIELD first. "What do you mean unavailable? There's no way you can't get a hold of Stark at least, JARVIS. Where's your boss?"

"I do not know, sir."

That definitely did not sound right. JARVIS knew everything. Or at least everything Tony did, which was essentially everything as far as Clint was concerned. "How can you not know, JARVIS? Did he go out? Where are the other Avengers?"

"As I stated, I do not know. According to my records, they were all assembled in the Tower's gym as of 7:03AM this morning, at which point they apparently vanished, sir."

Clint knew that it couldn't possibly be true, but he could swear that JARVIS sounded distressed. Not that he blamed him, since the information he provided could definitely be counted as distressing.

"Vanished? What the hell do you mean, vanished?" Next to him, Sitorksy was looking at him nervously, not sure what was going on and beginning to panic as the blood continued to flow out of Clint's broken leg and the mysterious door loomed in front of them like a bad omen. They still weren't sure what the situation was for the rest of the men they had been separated from.

"I do not know, sir," said JARVIS. Those words again. They were unnerving. "I did register a signal similar to that of the Tesseract at the moment they vanished, almost identical to the one registered in the Arctic earlier in the morning. However, my own attempts to reconcile the data available and form a hypothesis as to the Avengers whereabouts since that point have been unsuccessful."

"Thanks, JARVIS," Clint said, not sure what else to say or do. He wasn't sure why he was thanking the AI, but he supposed he wanted to make JARVIS feel better about his effort. Again, it weirded Clint out, but he had no choice but to go with it. He'd had no choice but to go with a lot of things that day.

Having hung up more confused than he started about what the hell was going on, Clint then dialed the only person he knew who seemed like he might be able to make sense of the situation. Without the Avengers to back him up, it wasn't like he had a choice.

"Barton! What the hell is going on out there? Agent Clayton called me to report that there was an earthquake in your vicinity. He said that most of the men made it out alright, but he was unable to determine the location of you or Sitorsky." Count on Nick Fury to berate you in a crisis. 'Typical,' thought Clint.

Well, if Fury was going to be blunt, so was Clint. "Do you want to explain to me why I'm looking at the entrance to a secret SHIELD base buried underneath the Arctic ice not far from where Steve Rogers' body was found two years ago? And then tell me it's a coincidence that I got sent out here to chase a Tesseract signal?"

There was silence on the line for a moment, and Clint was surprised. It seemed as though he had actually caught Fury off guard, which almost never happened. Finally, he received a calm response. "Do me a favour, and say hello to an old friend for me, Barton." The line clicked dead.

"That mother-" Clint exclaimed angrily, but was cut off by the grinding noise of the pressure lock on the door behind him unsealing. Sitorksy gripped his arm and reached for his weapon, concerned. Finally, the door opened and Clint could only make out a dark figure bathed in bright fluorescent light.

"Hey, Clint." Wait. He knew that voice. What the hell was going on?

 

 

* * *

 

**ABANDONED WAREHOUSE - DATE AND TIME UNKNOWN**

Tony was the first person to say anything after Natasha asked the question on all of their minds, his fight with Steve in the gym a distant memory. It was one thing for Steve and Tony to fight, but when push came to shove and Captain America and Iron Man were needed, personal grudges didn't matter. Tony was certain he could count on Steve to feel the same way.

"Well then," he said, hugging Pepper to him protectively and glad that she was letting him do so, "Are we just gonna stand around here all day, or are we expecting this beautiful dank warehouse we've found ourselves in to reveal all of its secrets to us?"

Steve, Bruce and Natasha all moved to look around to examine their surroundings and see if there was an exit. "What happened to us? How did we get here?" Pepper asked, looking to Tony for the answer.

"The hell if I know," Tony replied. "Bruce, you're more used to waking up in strange places and not knowing how you got there than any of us. Any thoughts?"

Bruce shrugged off Tony's comment easily, examining some of the crates to see if he could determine what was in them. "Don't look at me. That particular trip was nothing like the altered state I'm used to waking up from."

"I don't doubt it," said Tony. "Although it actually felt vaguely familiar to me." He didn't know what it meant that whatever happened to them had reminded him so much of the hum and glow of his arc reactor.

"Me too," said Steve, which surprised all of them. "I think it was the Tesseract."

"The Tesseract?" asked Natasha. "What's the Tesseract?" echoed Pepper.

"The Tesseract is the energy source that Loki was after when he invaded Earth two years ago," explained Bruce patiently.

"It was also used by the Red Skull in the war to make energy weapons. SHIELD ended up with it after it went down with me in the Arctic," Steve explained. "That hum... that glow... they reminded me of the feeling I got watching the Red Skull be sucked into a portal by it just before I took the Valkyrie down."

"That would make sense," Tony said. "We did pick up that signal out in the Arctic. Something funky is definitely going on involving the Tesseract. But we saw Thor and Loki take the thing back to Asgard. You'd think Thor would have mentioned if it had gone missing or been stolen."

"Who knows? I don't think we're going to get any answers in here though," Natasha said, motioning to a door she'd uncovered behind a stack of crates. It didn't appear to be locked. Steve stepped over to the door, his old-fashioned upbringing preventing him from allowing Natasha to be the one to go first in case they encountered trouble. He pushed the door open nervously. "Huh," he said. "It looks like New York. Not far from Manhattan. You can see it from here." The rest of the team cautiously followed him out into the sunlight. Sure enough, you could glimpse the Manhattan skyline peeking out above the buildings.

They were standing next to the warehouse now overlooking a vacant lot enclosed by fencing. They could definitely see a busy city street in front of the warehouse and the familiar brick townhouses and apartment buildings of a New York City neighborhood surrounding them. Garbage was littered around their feet, blown across the lot by wind and weather. Tony reached down out of curiosity to pick up a dirty newspaper drifting by.

"Guys..." he said to get their attention, "unless there's a homeless hoarder around here who has got a decent newspaper collection going on, I think we're in trouble." He held up the paper for them to see, his eyes wide in shock. It was a copy of the New York Times. "DAHMER DEATH COUNT RISES FROM INITIAL ESTIMATE" read the headline, with the date underneath July 31, 1991.

 

 

* * *

 

**ABANDONED WAREHOUSE, NYC - JULY 31, 1991 10:17AM**

"No," said Bruce calmly. "That can't be right. It's impossible."

"Are you sure about that?" asked Tony, a slight tremble beginning to spread throughout his body as the familiar rush of anxiety took him. "Because I actually did the math once. And impossible wasn't the conclusion I came to at the time."

"You did the math?" Bruce asked, intrigued. "As in, the time travel math? Since when is that your area of expertise?"

"I make it my business to make everything my area of expertise. I was 16, and bored, and to be honest pretty high. But still, I couldn't disprove that time travel was a possibility. And you know as well as I do that other scientists, who I assume weren't tripping balls at the time, such as Dr. Hawking (although isn't that a hilarious thought) attacked the same problem and came to the same conclusion I did. Not likely, but not impossible."

"Wait... what?" Steve asked. struggling to keep up. "You're not honestly going to tell me that this is 1991?"

"Says the guy who played Encino Man for almost 70 years? You should be the last person to find time travel hard to believe, Cap," Tony replied.

"Maybe so, but that was different. That was still..." Steve looked for the right word, "...linear, at least."

"It does seem a little unbelievable," Pepper said quietly, although she was used to the unbelievable when it came to Tony.

"Really, Pep?" said Tony, "then explain to me how my own glorious 96 story monument to myself has suddenly vanished from the skyline?"

Everyone craned their necks to look, and sure enough Stark Tower was nowhere to be seen amidst the other iconic buildings rising up in the distance.

"Good riddance," said Steve. Tony's anxiety took a backseat to his ego for a moment. "Hey!" he said in response, "Whatever happened to home sweet home?"

"I'm sorry, but can we please stay focused on the time travel being possible thing? Because it's kind of freaking me out. Not an Other Guy level of freakout, mind you, but still. Let's get serious, shall we?"said Bruce.

"Bruce is right. We need to focus. If we are in 1991, we need a plan," Natasha stated.

"Right," said Tony. "A plan sounds good. Also, rules. Rules are important."

"Rules?" asked Natasha.

"Definitely. Didn't you see Back to the Future? I don't know about you, but I'd like to keep existing and not return to any weird parallel universes where black is white and white is black, or suddenly Steve's Iron Man and I'm the Hulk or something."

"What?" said Steve, confused. "Why would that happen? That doesn't even make any sense."

"Time travel makes no sense," said Tony, the panic returning. "It shouldn't be possible, but it's not not possible, so it's possible and here we are! With the potential to destroy ourselves with the slightest step out of place, or create a universe-destroying paradox without even realizing it. It's awesome. And terrifying! Awesomely terrifying!" Tony wasn't going to let on to anyone, and only Pepper really knew anyway, but the fact that they'd time traveled to within a few weeks of his parents' deaths had been a part of Tony's thought process since the moment he'd seen the date on that newspaper. Panic was quickly blossoming into a panic attack.

Thankfully, Bruce was there. "Rules are good. Tony's right. If this is time travel, which seems to be our best assumption right now, we don't want to do anything that will make things worse. We need to be careful."

"Right," said Tony, calming down a bit. "Primarily, we need to ensure that we don't affect our own timelines. In Steve's case that's easy - we just need to not go to the Arctic and disrupt his icenap. But in the case of the rest of us, it's vital that we not interfere with anything that we already know happens. A paradox would not be a good thing. As in, I wasn't kidding about the universe-destroying thing. Avoiding our own timelines shouldn't be too hard. In my case, I was finishing up my third degree at MIT in 1991."

He left out the fact that his parents were residing within the very city they were in, in his childhood home, completely unaware that in 12 days they would die in a car crash. He didn't feel the need to bring it up. Instead, he continued. "Pep, I know that you were going to school too, right?"

"Stanford," Pepper reminded him, knowing that he would never remember on his own.

"Right. Bruce?"

"I was working towards my Ph.D in Virginia," he said.

"Natasha?" Tony asked.

"I'd rather not get into the specifics, but I can tell you that I was nowhere near the United States." she said.

"Vague, but it will do," Tony replied. "So, a plan. Anyone got any ideas?"

Silence, for a moment. "I do, but you won't like it," said Natasha.

"At least suggest it, and we'll discuss it," said Steve.

"We need to find the Tesseract. We suspect that it brought us here, it may be the only thing that can get us home. We also know that in 1991 it would have been in the hands of the Strategic Scientific Reserve."

"The SSR?" asked Steve. "They were still around in 1991? I thought that they were only operational for the duration of the war?"

"The SSR continued to operate following the Second World War and through the Cold War. In fact, they were the organization that was eventually restructured to become SHIELD. They retrieved the Tesseract in 1948 as part of an expedition to find you, Cap. That's how it ended up in SHIELD's possession when Loki attacked. Their operations at this time were based in an old factory in Brooklyn. At the very least we should be able to get information about where the Tesseract is being kept there." There was a pause as everyone took in the information Natasha provided. "Let's just say that I like to know who I'm working for. I didn't get into bed with SHIELD without doing some research first. Plus, Clint tells me a lot."

Tony had a very bad feeling that he knew exactly who was responsible for retrieving the Tesseract, even if it had conspicuously been absent from the files Fury had provided him related to it. "Bad plan, Natasha. We can't go near the SSR without them recognizing Steve or giving away who we are, which would be a definite no-no."

"I can sit this one out, then," Steve said.

"Besides, who says we have to reveal ourselves? If you can hack SHIELD's 21st century security systems, I'm sure we can find a way into the SSR now," Natasha explained.

"It's too risky," Tony said.

"Why?" Natasha said. "Because you're worried that your father may still be involved with the Tesseract and the SSR and you're worried you'll be tempted to prevent his death?" Tony was shocked into silence at this. Steve and Bruce looked uncomfortable at the sudden intrusion into Tony's privacy. Pepper, to Tony's discomfort, looked at him with nothing buy pity and kindness in her eyes. "Like I said," said Natasha, "I like to know who I'm working for."

"Well I'll sit this one out too, then. It's not like I have my suit with me anyway, and covert operations are more your thing. But I still say it's too risky," Tony said.

"It would be risky not to. It doesn't strike me that we have a lot of other options." Natasha said. And nobody disagreed.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Natasha's history of SHIELD is missing a few details, Tony and Steve come dangerously close to hugging it out, and an a few old friends make a shocking return.

**RED HOOK, BROOKLYN, NYC - JULY 31, 1991 12:03PM**

A plan was quickly formulated. It turned out that mind-controlled or not, Clint had a big mouth when it came to SHIELD history and secrets, which when combined with the Black Widow's infamous powers of persuasion meant that Natasha was able to provide shockingly specific details about exactly where the SSR headquarters were located.

The problem of how to get to the necessary location was solved by Steve's habit of hoarding subway tokens. Tony couldn't help but make a crack about boy scouts and being prepared when he found that out. He and Steve may have put their fight aside temporarily, but Tony was never one to let things go completely, and Steve was just too easy a target sometimes.

Soon, the four Avengers plus Pepper were standing in the Brooklyn neighborhood of Red Hook, not far from what appeared to be a munitions factory that very prominently featured the Stark Industries logo on its sign. Tony had a very, very bad feeling about this.

"Guys," he reminded them, "just remember to be careful. Anything you do could have lasting repercussions that could follow us back to our own timeline. If we get back to our own timeline at all."

"It'll be fine, Tony," Bruce said reassuringly. "We discussed this. Natasha is going to take out a couple of the guards, quietly, so that we can borrow their badges. Thankfully, technology wasn't at the point in 1991 where we have to worry about security measures beyond a couple of guards and an alarm system. Are you certain that the instructions you gave Pepper will enable her to hack the SSR computers for information in case Natasha isn't able to find what we need in the hard files?"

"Please," Tony said, "We're talking about a time when MS-DOS 5.0 and Linux were considered cutting edge. I could teach Steve how to hack them right now."

"Right then," said Bruce, "are you all right, Pepper?"

Pepper nodded, shyly. Tony hadn't exactly been thrilled that she was going with them and he wasn't, but he knew that going into a Stark Industries building wasn't exactly a good idea for him given the circumstances and Pepper's help was needed.

"Okay then," said Bruce. He was nervous, as he always was when he couldn't hide away in a lab and ensure the Other Guy didn't cause problems. "Let's go."

Tony and Steve could only watch as the others approached the back entrance to the factory.

 

* * *

**SSR SERVER ROOM, NYC - JULY 31, 1991 12:30PM**

Infiltrating the SSR's base had almost been too easy. The alarm system and security camera technology were laughable compared to what Natasha was used to dealing with and the guards, while well trained, had not put up much of a fight. Now, it was just a matter of the three of them blending in and finding the information they needed.

"Are you going to be okay in here?" Natasha asked Bruce, once they had located the room housing the base's computer server. She motioned to Pepper, indicating that it wasn't really Bruce she was concerned with.

"We'll be fine, Natasha. You hit the agents in here pretty hard. I don't think they're getting up anytime soon." He motioned to the two unconscious men who had been unfortunate enough to be working when they entered, sounding sympathetic towards them.

"Ten minutes, okay? Then, I'll be back to check on you." Natasha said, sneaking out the door to look for where the hard copy files were kept. Pepper moved towards one of the computers and began to hack into it according to the instructions Tony had provided.

"How are you holding up, Pepper?" asked Bruce.

"I'm doing about as alright as is possible, given the circumstances," she replied. "This is not what I was expecting when I woke up this morning."

"Yeah," said Bruce, giving her a small smile, "me neither."

The pair worked together in silence for several tense minutes. Suddenly, the two were startled by sound of intermittent static and near unintelligible voices coming from the unconscious agents radios. "there... are you... come in... alarm system down... come in?"

"What do we do?" asked Pepper. They began to hear the sound of footsteps running down the hallway outside the door. They were in trouble.

 

* * *

 

**SSR FILING ROOM, NYC - JULY 31, 1991 12:39PM**

Natasha moved swiftly, stepping over the unconscious bodies of the SSR agents unlucky enough to have been in her way in the filing room. She opened each of the large, deep drawers of files and skimmed quickly for any reference to the Tesseract. She was still having no luck and about to give up and return to Bruce and Pepper when she felt the unfortunately all too familiar feeling of a gun barrel press into the back of her neck. She froze.

"I don't know who the hell you are or what you're doing here, but whatever you're looking for better be worth your life," said the voice, in an instantly recognizable firm baritone. "Turn around, slowly."

Betraying none of her shock, Natasha did, only to be face to face with the seemingly immortal face of none other than Nick Fury. He looked identical to the man that they had spoken to just that morning, 23 years in the future. And not for the first time, Natasha wondered exactly how little she really knew about SHIELD history if even an agent as seasoned as Clint hadn't been able to fill her in on the most important details.

As Fury stared at her intently with his one good eye, two SSR agents shoved Bruce and Pepper at gunpoint into the room behind him.

"Now," Fury said, "explain yourself. It better be good."

 

* * *

 

**RED HOOK, BROOKLYN, NYC - JULY 31, 1991 12:20PM**

Once their teammates departed, Tony and Steve leaned against the wall of the alleyway they'd chosen to hide out in and a tense silence settled over them. Without their teammates as a buffer or the urgency of their situation as a distraction, the harsh words they exchanged earlier were harder to simply put aside.

Finally, Steve broke the quiet. "Tony," he said, and before he even began Tony wished he would just stop. This was not going to be a fun conversation.

"I am trying..." he paused, hesitant, "...very hard... to come to terms with the fact that your father lived a long life after my plane went down. That everyone did. You know that don't you?" Steve said.

"Obviously, Cap," replied Tony, very uncomfortable. His father was the last thing he wanted to be talking about at that moment. "You know we don't have to do this. I said some things, invaded your privacy, you said some things. I'm..." and he almost had to choke the words out "...sorry. I was a jack-ass. Can we just be done? It doesn't matter anymore."

"But it does," said Steve, unwilling to let it go. "It matters to me that you know that. Your father was a good man, but I can't expect that the version of him that I knew compares to the version that you grew up with. I never asked about him because I was trying to respect your privacy. Which is all I was asking for today."

"That's fair," said Tony. "But really, can we not talk about this right now?"

The tense silence returned.

Several minutes later, it was broken not by either of the men in the alley, but by an exclamation from nearby.

"Oh my God." The pair turned, and Tony went pale as though he'd just seen a ghost. Because he sort of had. There, standing a few feet from them in the street facing the alley, was none other than the subject of their conversation, Tony's father, looking just as he remembered him.

"Steve?" Howard asked. He laughed to himself in shock. "Oh my God, Steve!"

Steve wasn't sure what to do or say. They were in big trouble.

Howard nearly doubled over with joy, and then pulled himself back up to look at the heavens in amazement. "I did it!" he exclaimed. "Christ, I actually did it! I don't believe it!" He stumbled over awkwardly and wrapped his arms around Steve, who wasn't sure what to do other than stand there awkwardly. "Howard..." Steve said in shock, hugging the man back slightly, but before he could continue, he was interrupted.

"You did it?" Tony asked, coming to his senses and realizing that the man's reaction to seeing Steve was not what he would have expected. "What did you do?"

  
Howard looked up at him from over Steve's shoulder as though he only just noticed he was there. "Uh..."

"What. Did. You. Do?" Tony asked.

 

* * *

 

**ARCTIC CIRCLE - JULY 31, 1991 10:17AM**

"I think we've got something!" Agent Karlsonn exclaimed excitedly, stumbling as he attempted to run through the arctic snow towards his colleagues. He had to yell to be heard over the loud, persistent whine of the drill as it dug deeper and deeper into the ice.

The signals he was receiving on his equipment were all over the place. Strangely, they matched those of the cube that had been retrieved not far from their vicinity years earlier. That was a good sign. It was possibly an indication that they were near the very wreckage they had been searching for. Were they finally nearing their goal after all these years? The thought sent shivers of excitement rather than cold through Karlsonn's body.

Suddenly, a blue flash lit up the sky and the earth began to quake beneath them. He could hear the sounds of agents yelling around him, but he was in too much shock to run for cover. It was all happening so fast. he dropped his flashlight and it went out, plunging him into darkness. He tried to continue towards where he knew the others were, but he fell backwards, landing on his back in the snow.

After a moment, the shaking stopped. As Karlsonn squinted in the darkness to see and began to sit up, a figure appeared in front of him. "What happened?" he reached over and patted him hands in the snow trying to find his fallen flashlight.

"Something miraculous happened," a voice said. The accent was German, thick too. Funny, Karlsonn didn't recall any Germans on their team for this expedition.

"Is everyone alright?" Karlsonn asked.

Karlsonn finally found the flashlight and flicked it on, only to gasp in horror as the beam found the face of the figure in front of him. It was red, as though it had been burned deeply, and the eyes glinted with madness. It could only be one person, Karlsonn knew, but it was impossible. Wasn't it?

"For now," said the Red Skull answering the man's question. "but they won't be when I finish with them." With that, Karlsonn felt a blow to the back of the head, and blissfully lost consciousness.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Howard stirs up some conflicting emotions in Tony, and Howard is forced to defend his actions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so far for all of the kudos, bookmarks, subscriptions and for my first comment (from the wonderful Anachronism). I'm glad everyone seems to be enjoying the story so far. It looks like it's actually going to be quite a bit longer than I had initially anticipated, but I'm excited to take you guys on a bit of a journey with it, and I'm having a blast writing it. :)

**RED HOOK, BROOKLYN, NYC - JULY 31, 1991 12:25PM**

  
Tony's question hung in the air, tense and unanswered. Howard, however, much like his son was an expert at diffusing tension with an easy charm.

"Well, hello there," he said, avoiding the question. "Howard Stark, I'm an old friend of Steve's." He held out his hand over Steve's shoulder, expecting a handshake. Tony just sighed and crossed his arms.

"I know exactly who you are. Answer the goddamn question," he said, annoyed.

Steve decided this would be a good time to step in. "Howard!" he said. "It's good to see you. You look..."

"Like an old man," Howard said, stepping back from his hug finally. "And you haven't aged a day." He looked in awe as he stared at his old friend. "You look just like I remember you. I can't believe it."

Steve allowed himself a small smile, but had a bad feeling about Howard's presence. His old friend was nothing if not a genius, but much like his son it often got him into trouble. At the very least, he would be difficult to lie to.

"Who's your friend?" Howard asked.

Tony's eyes went wide at the question and Steve knew that he needed to come up with something quickly. "This is Mr... umm..."

"... Hammer," Tony filled in, pulling the name randomly from his mind. "Justin Hammer. Now what exactly did you do? Because you don't seem that surprised to see your old friend, looking exactly as you left him almost 50 years ago, in a random alleyway."

"Well, Mr. Hammer, if that is your real name, why don't you tell me where you came from and how Steve got here first? Because I have a feeling the two are related, but I'd hate to risk giving out important state secrets to a complete stranger. Could get me into trouble, you see."

"Where do you think we came from?" Tony asked. When you don't have an answer to a question, answer it with another question. Tony had been dodging questions from reporters since learning to talk, so he wasn't worried about his father getting anything out of him that he didn't want him to.

"We, as in you and Steve. You came from the same place? I didn't think anyone else was on that plane when it went down." Howard replied. Tony realized that maybe he and his father were evenly matched when it came to avoiding conversations they didn't want to have.

"The plane?" Steve asked. "You think I was on the plane before I ended up here? Howard, what do you think happened to bring me here? Please, it's important. You can trust... Justin. We won't tell anyone. But if you had anything to do with this, we need to know."

"I'll tell you, Steve, I will. But first, you have to tell me something. Where were you before you ended up in this alley? What do you know about how you got here?" Howard replied.  
Tony sighed. They weren't getting anywhere.

"You know what," Howard said. "We shouldn't do this here. There's a coffee shop around the corner. You two want something to drink? Maybe some food? I'm supposed to meet someone, but they can definitely wait. We obviously need to talk. What do you say?"

"Sounds good. T... Justin? Is that alright with you?" asked Steve, almost forgetting that he couldn't use Tony's real name. The name was a lie, but the concern in his voice was genuine.

Tony was conflicted. He was trying not to stare at his father in front of him, his silver hair and sly grin looking exactly as they had the last time he had seen him, more than 20 years earlier. He was surprised that he didn't feel at all as though he might have thought in this situation. On the one hand, it was all he could do not to simply turn around and run. However, there was a surprising, overwhelming part of him that he hated that wanted nothing more than to cling onto the man for dear life like a small child and never let him go. It terrified him.

"Sure. Why not?" he replied, trying to betray as little of the churning emotions happening inside his mind as possible. The moment the words left his mouth, he knew that he would regret them. But he followed the pair as they left the alley anyway.

 

* * *

 

 

**MORNING JOE COFFEE SHOP, BROOKLYN, NYC - JULY 31, 1991 12:35PM**

It was awkward, the three of them crammed around a table built for two, with an extra chair pulled over from a neighboring table. Howard could not help but stare at Steve in amazement, and Tony could not help but stare at Howard even though he was trying not to.

Howard stared down at his coffee as though it bored him. "You guys don't mind if I make this coffee a little more interesting, do you? Not that coffee's not one of Earth's greatest miracles on its own, but I really need something to take the edge off right now." And with that, he discretely pulled a flask from his jacket pocket and emptied some of its contents into his cup. He shook the flask a little to indicate he was willing to share. Tony pushed his cup over and Howard topped it up.

"I can't get drunk, remember?" Steve said.

"Right, yeah," Howard said. "I forgot about that. Sucks to be you." He took a drink from his coffee and immediately seemed to relax.

"What are we doing here?" Tony asked.

"I don't know," said Howard. "What are you doing here? I have a good idea of what Steve is doing here. I've been working on a little project, one that I honestly didn't expect to work."

"What do you mean?" asked Steve.

"You tried to pull Steve off of that plane and into the future using the energy of the Tesseract. Is that it?" Tony said, having put the pieces together almost from the moment his father had hugged Steve in the alley.

"Tried?" said Howard. "He's sitting right here in front of me isn't he? That's pretty good evidence that it did work! It's you I'm not sure about. Where did you come from?"

"Not 1945. Your aim was a little off. There's a reason you don't go messing with strange technologies from alien planets that you don't understand. Or time travel. Even I'm not that reckless."

"Wait, I don't understand. Steve, you're here. I pulled you off of that plane, you're here!" Howard said, struggling to understand what Tony was trying to tell him.

"You're right, Howard. But my friend is also right. Neither of us was in 1945 when we ended up here." Steve answered.

"How could you not have been in 1945?" Howard asked. "I don't understand."

"What exactly have you been working on?" asked Tony.

Howard was hesitant. "It's alright, Howard. Like I said, you can trust him," Steve reassured.

"I've been working on experiments with the Tesseract related to tapping into its unique energy," Howard explained. "I realized that the type of radiation being emitted from the Tesseract left a trace, an imprint of sorts on whatever it touched while active. I tried to tap into the Tesseract's energy to pull you here from the moment that its power last surged, the moments right before your plane went down. There's no other point at which pulling you from the timeline would have been possible. Not without there being some pretty clear evidence that something went wrong."

"Yeah, evidence as in the potential destruction of the universe. As in the creation of an impossible paradox that could potentially rip apart the whole of space-time. You wanted to see your old pal again so much that you'd risk that?" Tony asked, upset at his father's recklessness.

"Howard," Steve said, looking horrified at the thought. "He has a point. What were you thinking?"

"It was a calculated risk. I'm not insane. I had controls in place." Howard defended himself. "We've been looking for the Valkyrie for almost fifty years! Do you have any idea how many expeditions I've sent out to the Arctic? Do you know how disappointing it's been, every time one of them came back with nothing except the odd piece of the Valkyrie. Steve, I don't know if you know this or not, but the serum has some very particular side effects when it comes to certain things, and if you'd gone down in that ice, there was a chance that you were still alive down there, frozen. How could I live with that? So, after the most recent expedition came back with no news, I started to think about why. And I started to explore the possibility that maybe you hadn't actually gone down with the Valkyrie at all. And the time travel theory fit. I mean, if I pulled you off of that plane at the last minute and you ended up here, then of course we would have never found your body! There'd be no paradox, because we've gone this entire time thinking you were still down there! It made sense! And it worked! You're here in front of me, after all these years. It's just surreal, isn't it? You have no idea what it's like to be staring at someone who you haven't seen for so many years and have them look just as you remember them. I did that! I saved you!"

"Yeah, you saved him alright," Tony said, "saved him from a comfortable life in the year 2014 after he was found and unfrozen. Saved him from a life that you didn't get to be a part of, and risked the whole universe in the process, you selfish asshole!"

The minute Tony said the words he knew that he'd said too much. But it was too late. Steve stared at him, disappointed. Howard just sat back in his chair, shocked.

"2014?" he asked. "You were in the year 2014? Both of you?"

"And a few other friends of ours," Tony said. "Like I said, you've got some aim."

"Jesus," Howard said, and took another gulp of his coffee.

"Speaking of our friends..." said Steve, realizing the time. Natasha and the others should have returned to the alley by now and could be looking for them. Through the coffee shop window, Steve could see additional cars and security pulling up to the munitions factory.

"Shit," said Tony.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Fury is asked to trust Steve, and Tony learns that maybe he doesn't know as much as he thought he did.

**SSR BRIEFING ROOM, NYC - JULY 31, 1991 12:45PM**

Natasha stepped into the room carefully, the gun jammed in her back discouraging her from any sudden moves, especially with Bruce and Pepper also being held at gunpoint behind her. She could hear Bruce's heavy breathing as he worked to remain calm, and could only hope that he was successful. This situation was not exactly good for his "condition" as he liked to put it, and Natasha was certain that having the Hulk let loose on 1991 Brooklyn would be very, very bad for the space-time continuum. She couldn't begin to understand how bad, that was Tony and Bruce's territory. But she knew that it wasn't something she wanted to learn firsthand.

Fury's initial demand to explain had been ignored. Natasha wasn't going to tell him anything, and she knew that she could count on Bruce to do the same. Pepper made her nervous. The woman wasn't trained or prepared for this kind of situation, something that Natasha had tried to warn Tony about more than once. But, Tony wanted to protect her and love made people stupid, a fact which Natasha knew too well from from personal experience.

"Have a seat," said Fury, shoving her into a chair around the briefing room table so that she faced him. Bruce and Pepper were also made to sit, the guns still trained on them. Fury and the SSR agents remained standing. It was an obvious tactic designed to make them sweat.

"Now," said Fury, still standing, "who are you?"

"We can't tell you that," said Natasha.

Fury motioned to one of the agents who grabbed Bruce from behind and yanked his arm back hard behind him, slamming his head into the table. He yelped in pain, and his skin started to take on an olive tint. Pepper gasped, terrified. "Please, don't do this!" Bruce pleaded, scared of was so close to happening. He tried desperately to maintain his breathing and calm down. Natasha was surprised that he'd managed so well so far, but knew that as impressive as his control was, even he had limits. Things were escalating quickly.

"Please, we're not your enemies," Natasha said. "You need to believe me, for your own safety."

Fury stared down at her for a tense moment, and it seemed that he was considering her words carefully. Before he could make a decision, however, they were interrupted by the bang of the door being flung open. Howard Stark chose that moment to waltz in the door like he owned the place. Which he sort of did, a fact which was a constant irritation to Fury, especially in moments like this one.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa! What is this? Geez, Nick, you decided to throw a party and you forgot to invite me? I'm insulted," said Howard.

Fury could only roll his eyes at how typical this was. Stark, showing up unannounced and half in the bag. Again. "Stark," he yelled, and Natasha and Pepper's eyebrows went up. "What the hell are you doing here? It's not a good time."

"Well, I was coming to discuss the plans for the new aircraft carrier you wanted me to have a look at, but when I heard you were entertaining a group of time travellers, I decided I didn't want to be left out of the fun," Howard replied. Natasha swallowed. This was not good.

"Time travellers?" said Fury, not amused.

"Yep. From the year 2014 apparently. Although some of them got there by way of 1945," Howard explained. Steve and Tony chose this moment to enter the room.

All animosity towards their unexpected intruders was forgotten temporarily, as every agent in the room's eyes turned towards the long since assumed dead Captain America, standing in front of them looking as though he just jumped clean off the pages of his comics. Even Fury looked stunned.

"Captain Rogers?" Fury asked.

"Yes, sir," said Steve in response. "Now, if you could kindly lower your guns and release my friends, I'd appreciate it." The SSR agents obeyed without question.

"Hi guys," said a now calmed down Bruce, "Do you wanna fill us in here? Because I thought we agreed that we weren't going to do this."

"2014?" said Fury.

"Yep, that's right," said Tony. "We're from the future. And that is all we're going to tell you about it."

Fury seemed torn between whether to laugh in their faces or take them seriously. But the presence of Steve seemed to decide for him for the time being. He motioned for the other agents in the room to leave, and they did.

"Alright then," he said. "I won't ask you any questions about where you're from, but you're sure as hell going to have a seat and tell me how you got here. You too, Howard." He took a seat himself as a gesture of goodwill, but he still looked unsure. The others sat down, and they were silent for a moment.

Natasha and Bruce looked at Tony and Steve with hesitation written on their faces.

"Right then," said Steve. "As Howard said, we're from the year 2014. We got pulled here by the energy of the Tesseract. Howard was apparently working with it to pull me here from the moment my plane went down. Something about radiation..." he said, unsure, "anyway, instead of pulling me from that moment, he pulled me from the future where I had already been unfrozen. Along with some others who were in the room with me at the time."

"You said they were your friends?" Fury asked, looking at Natasha as he asked the question.

"They are," said Steve. "This is Natasha, Bruce and Pepper," he pointed and introduced. "And this is Justin Hammer." He emphasized the last name so that Natasha, Bruce and Pepper would understand and follow his lead. Pepper smirked slightly at Tony's choice of alias.

"That's all we can tell you," interrupted Tony. "Nothing else. I mean that. You guys deal with all kinds of crazy here - cosmic cubes, aliens, advanced technology, magic. So you must at least have some idea that time travel is a very particular brand of insanity. If we tell you something that you're not supposed to know, affect anything that we're not supposed to affect, we could cause paradoxical destruction. I'm talking full scale annihilation of the whole of space-time. Hell, even you seeing us right now is bound to cause problems. This could really be an issue, unless we are very, very careful. So, you kinda need to work with us here, Nicky."

"Excuse me?" asked Fury, raising an eyebrow. Nobody talked to him like that, not even Stark, and nobody called him Nicky. Who did this guy think he was?

"What I think my friend here is trying to say," Howard interrupted, sensing the tension, "is that we really don't have a choice about this. I brought them here. I need to get them back to their own time. And the SSR needs to help me do it."

"We caught your friends breaking into the base. Why?" Fury asked.

"We needed information," replied Natasha, "about the location of the Tesseract. It brought us here, it stands to reason it could help us get home. We didn't want to alert you to our presence unless we had to."

"How the hell do we even know you're telling the truth? How do we know you're even really Steve Rogers?" asked Fury.

"Test me if you want," said Steve immediately. "I don't mind. It's not like I haven't been poked and prodded enough in my lifetime. If you need proof that I am who I say I am, well I have no problem providing it to you. The rest you'll just have to take my word for. I think I've earned that."

Fury couldn't say anything to that. The man in front of him was an American hero. If the tests proved he was who he said he was, he'd have no choice but to trust him. It didn't mean he'd have to like it, though.

"Fine. If you'll allow us to verify your identity, Captain, we'll work with you. Or rather, Stark will. This isn't really the SSR's problem."

"We do need access to the Tesseract though," said Bruce.

"Well then, you'll get it. But it's not safe for us to bring it here. The energy and radiation it gives off are still not fully understood, and I won't jeopardize my people," Fury replied.

"So where is it then?" asked Tony, "Presumably, you've got in, what, an underground bunker? Oceanic base? We've got no problem going where the Tesseract is."

"Good. It's at Stark's house," said Fury, and Tony's jaw dropped.

"My... Stark's house? As in, his mansion here, in New York? That's nuts!" Tony exclaimed. "Are you nuts?" he asked his father. "In your home? He doesn't trust the thing around his people, and you're keeping it where your family lives? You're crazier than I thought. Who are you?" Tony rambled. He thought he'd known his father. Even if the man hadn't necessarily been the chattiest with him personally growing up, he thought he'd known the things that were going on with him, thought he'd heard every story. He'd read every interview, every press article, every mediocre biography since his father's death (and even before). He'd even learned a lot about the man from Obadiah. The SHIELD files Fury had provided him had been startling and perception altering, but this... this was something else. The man had kept a powerful alien artifact mere feet from the place where Tony slept growing up. He knew that house, he had thought inside and out, and he had never even known his father had a workshop there.

For the first time Tony realized that there was a possibility that the things Fury had shared with Stark about his father had been the tip of the iceberg.

"I'm the guy who's going to get you back to 2014," Howard said, "and I guess this means you're coming home with me."


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Tony's temper leads to a new understanding of Howard, Pepper sparks Tony's imagination to go in a new direction, and Natasha and Bruce discuss the dangers of time travel.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I know that so far it's been a lot of talking, and not a lot of action, and a lot of Tony and his Daddy issues. I promise you that starting with the next chapter, we get a lot more Steve Rogers, and the action starts to ramp back up.
> 
> Also, I apologize because I initially uploaded the chapter missing a piece. So if read this immediately after it was posted, please re-read!
> 
> Sorry for the wait, and I hope you like this chapter!

**CAR EN ROUTE, NYC - JULY 31, 1991 2:30PM**

Tony sat, in shock, in the backseat of the modest black sedan that was carrying him somewhere he never thought he'd return to. He certainly never expected to return to it under circumstances like this one. Home. His childhood home, a place which had long since been boarded up and left to collect dust as far as Tony was concerned, never to be examined or thought of again. That was the way he liked it. But here he was, headed there again. He wasn't sure how to feel about that. Or what he might learn about his father once he got there.

The team had convinced Fury to allow them to accompany Howard to his home workshop along with several SSR agents who would report back to Fury and act as chaperones in case anything went wrong. Fury had also provided them with every available SSR file on the Tesseract. Natasha, Bruce and two agents were in a second car following them, while Tony, Pepper, and his father and an SSR agent traveled together in the first car.

Steve had, against the rest of the team's wishes, chosen to remain at the SSR to undergo medical testing. Tony suspected that Fury wasn't going to let Steve out of his sight and planned to use him as leverage for information. You could never tell with Fury, but Tony wouldn't have put it past him. If they ever got back to their own timeline, Tony knew that he and Fury would have to have a long conversation about the man's past and involvement with his family. No matter how many SHIELD files he hacked, clearly he knew only what the man wanted him to about his past. The man remained an enigma, one who grew more and more mysterious the more Tony learned about him, which was irritating. Tony didn't like not knowing things.

"So, I believe I overheard that your name was Pepper. That's an unusual name," said Howard, breaking Tony's contemplation. He wasn't sure whether he was annoyed or grateful for the conversation.

"It's not my real name, actually. It's a nickname. My real name is Virginia," replied Pepper.

"Well, whoever nicknamed you got it right, those freckles are adorable, sweetheart," said Howard. Pepper couldn't help but blush, which made Tony squirm. This was not happening.

"She's half your age, you creep," Tony said. "And you're married." Pepper rolled her eyes.

"Geez," said Howard, holding his hands up in surrender, "I was just paying the lady a compliment. I take it she belongs to you, then? You know, green is a bad color on anybody, Justin." Pepper giggled at that. It was quickly becoming obvious where Tony got both his charm and his mouth.

"Yeah, well, keep it up and I'll introduce you to Bruce on a bad day. That's a shade of green that you wouldn't find so funny." Howard looked confused at this statement, but understood the implied threat.

"You know," he said, "I don't know what the hell I did to you to make you so pissed off. It's not like I brought you here on purpose. I was trying to save my friend's life, which in a way, I succeeded at doing. I already promised to help get you home, so what is your problem?"

"My problem is your recklessness. You've been keeping a powerful and volatile cosmic cube a few feet away from where your wife and your child sleep on a regular basis, along with God knows what other potentially explosive or dangerous things. You brought us here, put our lives in danger, ran the risk of destroying everyone and everything and you act like you don't even care. And for what? To save Steve Rogers? What makes him worth putting me, Pepper, my friends, your family, hell the entire universe in danger? Explain it to me! Do you really care that little?"

"Could we all just calm down a little bit?" Pepper asked, putting a hand on Tony's shoulder to soothe him. "I think we need to just focus on getting to the mansion, and using this Tesseract thing to get home." She looked at Tony with pleading eyes, urging him to calm down and not let this situation upset him. She knew that Tony became strange and unpredictable when he was upset and felt out of control.

"No, it's alright, Pepper," Howard said, staring at Tony intently and remaining silent for a moment. The man seemed to withdraw into himself, a sadness creeping into his expression. "I suppose I deserve that."

Observing Howard, Pepper was reminded of Tony in those rare moments when they were alone and his usual defensiveness and charm fell away, leaving a raw, vulnerable person briefly behind. She'd never tell him, but she loved those moments. This fact made her feel like a terrible person, and were part of why she knew things hadn't worked out between them. After all, who wants to be with someone who they only really love when they're at their lowest? Or who can't allow himself to be a real person rather than a caricature without it destroying him?

A few minutes of tense silence passed. Finally, Howard spoke. "I don't know who you are, or what you think you know about me," he said. "God knows there's enough information about me floating around out there to fill a library, I'm sure. But I love my family. No matter what else is said about me or gets recorded in the history books, they mean everything to me. I would never put them in unnecessary danger. They're not living at the mansion right now. If they were I wouldn't have brought the Tesseract there. I need you to know that."

Tony just listened, not sure what to say, and nodded his head. It wasn't like he ever doubted that his father loved him, he knew that. It was always more a matter of not knowing if he was ever a priority or not, if his father loved him enough to put him first. Hearing his father talk about loving him with such certainty, especially after all these years, was tearing him up inside. Pepper wasn't helping. Feeling her hand rubbing his shoulder so affectionately was just reminding him of everything and everyone he'd lost over the years, all the ways in which he was undeserving of the love his father and Pepper both seemed to have for him.

The practical part of his brain, the part of him that tried so hard all the time to do the right thing, also knew that he couldn't let his father know who he was, or tell him that he was only days away from being gone forever. Tony contemplated yanking the door handle and throwing himself out of the moving vehicle. Why had he brought this up? Why couldn't he have just kept his mouth shut?

Howard continued to speak, unaware of the impact of his words. "As far as risking everything to save Steve goes, well I'm not sorry at all for what I've done or bringing you here. I build weapons for a living, Mr. Hammer. I create things that do nothing but destroy and kill. Steve Rogers is one of the very few things I've ever been a part of in my life that was truly for the greater good. And he was a damn good friend. And if I could somehow save him, ensure that he still existed in the world as a force for peace and what's right, then I had to take that chance. I had to balance the scales. Knowing that he's alive, even if it is twenty years from now, brings me a sort of peace that you can't possibly understand."

The silence in the car was deafening.

"So, can you stop acting like I kicked your puppy now, and can we get to work getting you home?"

"Absolutely," said Tony, feeling like he'd just been sucker-punched, "Let's do that."

"Good," said Howard, "because we're here." The car stopped, having reached its destination. "Home, sweet home. You coming?" He stepped out of the car and headed towards the front entrance.

"Can you give us a minute?" asked Tony. "We'll catch up." Howard nodded and left along with the SSR agent.

Once they were alone, Tony allowed himself to breathe deeply and leaned back in the car seat, trembling. He hated seeming so weak, but he knew that Pepper of all people would understand. He just needed a minute to process things.

"Are you going to be okay? I know how difficult this must be for you," Pepper said.

"I'm fine," Tony replied automatically.

"No," Pepper said, "you're not. Which is okay, Tony. Nobody would be, given the circumstances. I mean, I've only just met the man and he's going to die. In less than a month. It's upsetting, and hard for me to wrap my brain around. I can't imagine what you're going through."

Tony looked out the car window and caught a glimpse of his father, standing near the front entrance of the mansion talking casually with the SSR agent, and he couldn't help it. A tear rolled its way down his face, and before he knew it Peppers arms were wrapped around him and he was sobbing into her blouse.

Finally, he pulled himself together and sat up, wiping away the tears and snot with a kleenex handed to him by Pepper. "I'm good, Pep. I can do this."

"I know you can," said Pepper. "Besides, maybe you're thinking about this the wrong way. How many people get an opportunity like this? To see someone they loved again after thinking they were gone forever? To get answers to questions and learn about someone after thinking you'd never get the chance again? To get closure? This could actually be a good thing, Tony, even if you can't tell him who you are."

"Right," said Tony, and a thought crept into his head that hadn't occurred to him before. He smiled, and Pepper wondered what it meant. "You're absolutely right. There is an opportunity here..."

As Tony got out of the car to go join his father again, Pepper wondered exactly what random thought she'd just sparked within Tony, and if she'd come to regret it. She usually did.

 

* * *

 

**CAR EN ROUTE, NYC - JULY 31, 1991 2:35PM**

Natasha eyed the SSR agents in the car with her and Bruce warily. She still wasn’t sure how she felt about this arrangement. They weren’t supposed to be interfering with their own timeline, and yet they’d already run into Nick Fury and introduced themselves to Tony’s father. Tony had said that their actions in this time period had the potential to destroy the entire universe, or at least ensure that they could never return home, at least not the home they were used to. But of course he was the first person to break his own rules.

Natasha thought of Clint, who they had talked to earlier that morning, but also 23 years in the future. She wondered if they had abandoned him, vanished without a trace, or whether or not he had already spoken to them upon their return. Time travel made Natasha's head hurt.

She looked over at Bruce, who was rubbing gentle circles into his forehead with both hands trying to ease his headache. She could see the lump forming where Fury had slammed his head into the table. Natasha glanced at the SSR agent in the seat next to them. Some escort. He'd plugged in a Walkman from the moment they'd gotten into the car and was listening to music.

"How does this work, then?" she asked Bruce quietly, certain that the agent could not hear her. The driver and agent in the front seat were engaged in a whispered conversation of their own.

"Hmmm?" he replied, absentmindedly.

"Time travel."

"I have no idea," replied Bruce. "It shouldn't work at all. At least not according to any of the laws of the universe that I'm aware of. We're in the past, influencing everything simply by being here. It shouldn't be possible. We shouldn't be able to influence our own futures in any way and continue to exist."

"And what about paradoxes?" asked Natasha. "Tony said something about "Paradoxical destruction", the annihilation of space-time. What did he mean by that?" She clarified.

"A paradox is something that negates itself. For example, if I prevent myself in any way from being born, then I therefore never existed to begin with, and therefore could never have prevented myself from being born..." Bruce explained, "And it goes on and on forever, constantly undoing itself like that. Paradoxes defy logic."

"And paradoxical destruction..." Natasha prodded.

"... is theoretically the destruction of all matter in existence due to an irreconcilable paradox, such as the one I just mentioned. If we do anything that creates a paradox while we're here, there's a possibility that the universe will literally eat itself like a snake eating its own tail until there's nothing left." Bruce sighed. His headache was getting worse.

"Well, I suppose that's actually good news. We must not have caused a paradox yet if we're still here," Natasha stated.

"I suppose that's correct. Which I don't understand, given that Fury saw us, which technically means that he should recognize us when he meets us in the future and creates the Avengers Initiative. Not that the alternative is any better. We've likely irreparably damaged our own timeline to the point where we won't be able to return back to the same universe we left."

"Would we know anything had changed? Wouldn't our memories be different?" Natasha asked.

"I suppose if you're right, we might never know the answer to that question," Bruce said.

They sat in contemplative silence for a moment.

"Do you think that Stark will be able to resist his impulse to save his parent's lives?" Natasha asked bluntly. "If I were in his shoes, I know I'd have difficulty with it. And Stark's lack of impulse control has always been an issue."

Bruce sighed, tired. "I think that it's not just Tony we have to worry about. We've all got things we wish we could change, Natasha. We've all got regrets."

Natasha stared intently at Bruce for a moment, surprised by his honesty and understanding his intentions in telling her this. "Just because the timeline may already have been damaged doesn't mean that we shouldn't still be very careful. As you said, we could potentially destroy the universe, and the bigger the change we make, the more likely that is. Besides, I would hate to have to return to a universe where I never met you, Bruce. Even if I didn't remember, deep down I'd know. I know I would."

Bruce simply leaned back and closed his eyes. He looked so sad and fragile in that moment. Natasha found it strangely beautiful. The car stopped. They had arrived.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Steve is asked some hard questions by Fury, and is reunited with someone unexpected, while Clint continues to be confused but the promise of answers awaits.

**SSR BASE, NYC - JULY 31, 1991 2:30PM**

Steve lay patiently in the hospital room bed while the SSR nurse drew what seemed to be enough of his blood to fill a bathtub, wary of what he knew the SSR might do with it. Not that he didn't know that somewhere there was probably a warehouse full of the stuff. They had certainly taken their share of it from him after the initial success of Project Rebirth and during the war.

The doctors and nurses attended to him without comment or conversation, moving swiftly around the room whispering to each other and fussing with their lab equipment. It was an unexpected benefit of the serum for Steve that he was able to endure these sorts of things without side effects or uncomfortableness. He had been subject to almost as many medical tests and procedures as a child before the serum as after it,given his poor health, however it was harder to bear then. Usually, he would get dizzy or experience nausea or stiffness from being poked and prodded and having so much blood drawn. Steve couldn't help but contemplate those moments in his life as he sat waiting for the doctors to finish and confirm his identity to Fury's satisfaction.

From the entrance to the room, Fury observed carefully. He obviously would not trust his eyes alone and was unsure what to make of the man in front of him. Steve was content to allow the doctors and nurses to continue in silence. He did not intend to give anything away. He knew that Fury was not a man who was easily lied to or avoided when he wanted to know something, and this situation was bound to create questions in the man's mind.

Finally, one of the doctors gave a surprised yelp from over his microscope, and Steve knew that the confirmation was complete. He'd know that reaction anywhere, even if it made him deeply uncomfortable and self-conscious when it happened. It was the astonished noise that people made when they realized they were in the presence of Captain America.

The doctor looked at Fury and nodded. Then, with one jerk of his head in the direction of the door, all of the staff in the room cleared out leaving the two of them alone.

"I realize that I didn't say it before, but you must understand why. It's a great pleasure to meet you, Captain Rogers."

"I appreciate that, Director. Although I wish the circumstances were different," replied Steve.

"Right," said Fury, "the circumstances. You mean, the fact that you and your friends were apparently in 2014 before you arrived here and decided to break into my base."

Steve hesitated. He knew where this was going. "I can't tell you anything more than that we were in 2014 and now we're here and need to get back. If I tell you anything more than that, I could be risking everything."

"While I understand that, Captain," said Fury, "you can't be that surprised by my curiosity. Especially because you certainly all seemed to know about me and the details of this organization and this base, which means that your future and mine are intertwined."

"No comment," said Steve. He knew that only Natasha was better than Fury when it came to extracting information from someone unwittingly.

"I have a responsibility as the head of this organization to protect not just my men, but the entire planet, Captain. And if you know things that can assist me in that duty, I would be remiss if I didn't ask for your assistance, wouldn't you agree? And if you know anything about the future that could save lives or prevent suffering, then as far as I'm concerned you have a moral obligation to share that information." Fury asked.

"I have a moral obligation to protect my friends and to protect the future that's certain. Anything I change could have consequences I can't predict," Steve explained. "I have the power to destroy as well as save lives with what I know and I'm not willing to simply roll the dice and hope for the better alternative. I'm sorry, Nick."

There was a long pause while Fury considered what Steve had said. Finally, he seemed to drop the subject. "Well," said Fury "regardless of whether you got here by way of 1945 or 2014, there are some people who are going to be very interested in your sudden resurrection. We've been searching for you for a long time, Cap."

"I know. And I wish it hadn't taken so long for you to find me, believe me," said Steve, "but I need to rejoin my friends and I need to get back to where I belong."

"And are you sure that you've found that, Captain? Where you belong?" asked Fury.

Steve thought for a moment about everything that had happened since he awoke from the ice. He thought about his life at Stark Tower and his status as an Avenger, and about the friendships he had formed with Tony, Bruce, Natasha, Clint, and even Thor when he was on Earth. Was that where he belonged?

"Yes," he answered with certainty.

"I think you may change your mind. And when you do, I'll be waiting," said Fury, and he ended the conversation abruptly by leaving the room.

Steve slowly stood up, unsure what to make of that conversation. He belonged with the Avengers in 2014. He knew that. Even if was unsure at times, it wasn't as though he had anything else in his life that mattered or gave him a purpose. Fury was wrong.

Steve left the room, following after Fury and made his way back to the main SSR entrance, only to be stopped in his tracks by an astonishing sight.

Speaking to one of the SSR agents was an older woman, in her 70's, with grey hair and a slight build. However, even having aged so much since when he last saw her, Steve would know that face anywhere. He had sketched it so many times, and seen it in his dreams so many nights. There, in front of him, was Peggy Carter. The woman who, only earlier that day, he had been mourning. And, despite all the years that had passed for her, she was just as beautiful as the day he'd first laid eyes on her.

Steve couldn't help but stare, his mouth hanging open. Finally, she turned and noticed him, her own shock obvious.

"Steve?" she asked, tears starting to well up in her eyes as she took him in. She stepped towards him, uncertain.

"Peggy?" asked Steve. She nodded and he ran towards her, throwing his arms around her, clutching her desperately and feeling his own eyes beginning to water. And the certainty he had felt moments ago in his conversation with Fury evaporated. Peggy was alive, and that was all that mattered.

 

* * *

 

**ARCTIC CIRCLE - AUGUST 12, 2014 3:45PM**

Clint looked up, wide-eyed, as the figure in front of him stepped forward and Clint was able to make out his features. He knew the voice, but it still surprised him to see the clear blue eyes of Steve Rogers gazing down at him, concerned. Only this Rogers didn't look like the version Clint knew. His hair was longer, and he was sporting a scruffy blonde beard.

"Steve?" asked Clint, confused.

"It's good to see you again," said Steve, and he looked as though he meant it. "Agent Sitorsky," he said, giving a curt nod to the agent. "Would you mind giving me a hand getting Agent Barton inside?" He nodded towards the base.

Clint wondered if it was the blood loss or if he'd taken a blow to the head when he fell without realizing. He couldn't possibly be staring at Steve Rogers. He'd just talked to Steve earlier that day before getting on a plane out to the godforsaken frozen hell he'd found himself in, and there was no way that Steve could have beaten him there. Nor could he have grown his hair and beard out that quickly. What in the hell was going on?

Steve handed Sitorsky a first aid kit he'd retrieved, and the pair bandaged his leg to prevent more blood loss. As the two of them worked, Clint's stare bore into Steve.

"I know you have questions, Clint," Steve said, "and I promise, I will answer them. We just need to get you inside and fixed up first."

Clint remembered his call with Fury, and the strange request that the Director had made before hanging up the phone. "Fury says hi," he said to Steve, tentatively, not sure if he was interpreting the Director's request properly.

Steve smiled slightly. "Of course he does."

Once Steve and Sitorsky had finished bandaging his leg, he felt them place their arms underneath him to move him, and he braced himself for the pain that he knew was coming. Bracing himself didn't stop the scream that escaped him when the pair lifted him, though. He hoped that Steve and Sitorsky could be trusted to never, ever tell Natasha that he'd sounded very much like a young girl in a horror movie. Who knew what she'd do with that piece of information?

He breathed in and out slowly, trying not to pass out from the pain, as the pair carried him inside and through the base. Finally, they laid him on a hospital bed in a small medical lab, and he gave a sigh of relief. Steve opened a cupboard, retrieving what Clint hoped were painkillers.

"Thank you, Captain," said Sitorksy, keeping his own confusion to himself. "You saved our lives."

"You're welcome. Feel free to make yourself at home, Agent Sitorsky," Steve replied. "You could be here awhile." He injected Clint with what he'd retrieved with the ease and skill of a nurse. "Morphine," Steve said, explaining.

"Mmmmm..." Clint said, already getting woozy, but feeling better. "The others?" he asked, sleepily.

"I'm working on it," said Steve, "don't worry. We'll see them again soon."

Clint only had a brief moment to wonder what that meant before he drifted off peacefully.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Howard gives a tour of the mansion, Pepper and Natasha wonder why Tony is so different from his father and where exactly Maria is, and Fury retrieves something important.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I do not know how this chapter became almost three times longer than previous chapters. It's not as though that much more happens, but somehow a lot spilled out of me this week.
> 
> And I know I promised less Stark family dysfunction and more action and Steve, but I make no apologies for the fun I have exploring Tony's childhood, and there's a lot more where that came from. Besides, I'm so sick of reading about heroes driven by Daddy Issues that I thought I'd write a hero with Mommy Issues for once, which you can start to see the beginnings of here.
> 
> (Seriously, try and name every fictional hero you can who is written to have issues with their father, including female heroes. Now try to think of any hero who has an issue with their mother that isn't that she was killed, often by their father. I doubt you'll think of many, if any.)
> 
> Anyway, never mind my rambling. Enjoy!

**STARK MANSION, NYC - JULY 31, 1991 3:00PM**

The second towncar pulled up to the front entrance of the Stark family mansion and Bruce and Natasha exited, their eyes immediately widening at the site in front of them. They had obviously known that Tony had grown up with money, and they were used to the man's excesses and displays of wealth. However, the palatial estate that sprawled out in front of them was unexpected, if still impressive.

At the entrance, Howard Stark welcomed them all enthusiastically, offering them a guided tour of the estate prior to entering the main house. The man was obviously proud of his home, and as they walked with him he provided them with a detailed history of the property, pointing out the key features and discussing the architecture and landscaping at length.

Housed along the north shore of Long Island in the area known as the Gold Coast, the mansion itself was enormous, with tall columns supporting a two level balcony in the front overlooking the entrance in the classic Greek Revival style. The estate itself was surrounded by high stone walls, featuring marble statues and ornaments, and lush gardens and greenery. Dozens of employees milled about - cooks, landscapers and cleaners of all varieties.

It was in sharp contrast to the high-tech, low maintenance modern mechanical playgrounds that Tony had engineered for himself at Stark Tower and his Malibu home. Everything about the place screamed old money, which it was, having been built in the 1920's by Howard Stark's father, himself a wealthy industrialist. Natasha tried to imagine a young Tony Stark roaming this estate and found herself at a loss. Howard, on the other hand, seemed to revel in the opulence. It was the first obvious difference that Natasha had observed between father and son but, she reflected, an important one to note.

Tony was distracted. The tour held no interest for him. He had heard all of his father's stories when he was younger, had been lectured as to how all of it would be his one day, and had explored every crevice and hiding place in the mansion in the way that children do. And then, once his parents were gone and he knew he was free of it, he had the furniture packed or covered, paid someone to look after the place for him as needed and left it to sit and collect dust. That was the way he had wanted it.

Now, he was anxious to see his father's workshop, to learn what the mansion could reveal to him that he hadn't seen or noticed as a child. Every statue, fountain or garden they passed held a place in his memory, and he struggled to line up what he knew then with what he knew now. His eyes darted over the employees they passed by, trying in vain to place them in his memory or remember their names and, in most cases, failing. By 1991, most of the employees who had worked for his family when he was growing up had moved on or been replaced. Some of them, he knew, had gone on to write tell-all books when fired or give interviews to biographers, but none of them had ever seemed to have any real insight on their time working for the Stark family. Now, he looked at them with fresh eyes, considering the possibility that some of them may have worked for the SSR or known more than he suspected about his father.

As the tour led them into the mansion itself, and Howard began describing the paintings on the walls and the antique furniture in the rooms, Tony's mind wandered to the people currently accompanying him, his fellow Avengers and Pepper. It bothered him that they were here, that they were sharing something so intimate with him. As they walked, he knew that they were interested and noticing things, storing things away to talk to him about later. There would have to be conversations. Bad enough that he had broken down in front of Pepper earlier, but to have them trampling down the corridors and peeking through the doorways of his childhood was too much for Tony. It made him uncomfortable.

And he knew that the worst was yet to come. There were some things, Tony knew, that he couldn't hide from anyone because as his father had said earlier, entire libraries had been written about Howard Stark (and Tony too, especially since he had become Iron Man). But there were other things, more personal things, that nobody knew, that Howard had worked very hard to keep private, which Tony was thankful for. But now that privacy could potentially be shattered.

They came to the master bedroom. And Pepper asked the question that Tony had been dreading. "Where is your wife, Mr. Stark? Will we get to meet her?" Of course it would be Pepper who would ask it. Her curiosity would have been too great not to.

Howard didn't even flinch. Tony had seen him deflect this question a million times, and was startled at the clarity of the memories that Howard's ease and charm as he answered it brought back. "My wife is currently travelling, Ms. Potts. She conducts a lot of charitable business on behalf of Stark Industries overseas, and she loves Europe at this time of year, so how could I possibly have kept her here all to myself?" he replied. "So, no, unfortunately I doubt that you'll be meeting her." Tony breathed a deep sigh of relief.

Pepper looked at Howard with the same look she gave Tony whenever his mother came up in conversation and he abruptly changed the topic. She knew that there was more to it than that, but had long ago learned not to press the subject. Natasha, as usual, gave nothing away, while Bruce seemed to accept Howard's response at face value.

Finally, the tour had taken them down one of the enormous staircases that book-ended the front foyer, and they were back at the mansion's entrance. Howard called a housekeeper over.

"Now," he said turning to them and clapping his hands together, "You ladies must be hungry. Why don't I have Helen here escort you to the dining room for dinner while the boys and I get started in our work?"

Pepper and Natasha nodded their heads politely and thankfully kept their distaste at being referred to as "ladies" and being dismissed in such a way quiet, although Tony knew that it must have irritated them. It irritated him, as it always had. While Howard may have encountered strong women in his life, that didn't mean that he wasn't old-fashioned in how he dealt with them.

Helen led Pepper and Natasha away, and finally it was just Howard, Tony and Bruce. "Gentlemen," Howard said, "I think it's about time we got this show on the road, don't you?"

He led them to the second floor study where Tony had spent many nights as a child observing his father work, getting underfoot while the older man scribbled furiously in notebooks or marked up his books in pencil. As a child, Tony had wanted so badly to understand the secret scribbles and formulas that his father worked on. They had seemed so mysterious and magical. Tony couldn't help the wave of nostalgia that washed over him as they stepped into the room. He could smell the combination of paper and leather associated with the enormous leather-bound books that were stacked in every corner, and lined every bookshelf in the room. Tony hated that smell. He couldn't remember the last time he'd held a paper book in his hands, he avoided that smell so carefully.

Once in the room, Howard shut the door purposefully behind him and gave a tug on a wall-sconce, pulling its angled arm downwards. Tony couldn't believe it was as obvious and simple as that, but pulling the sconce triggered one of the bookshelves to slide revealing the entrance to a secret room. "Follow me," said Howard. Bruce gave Tony a sideways glance, and they did.

 

* * *

 

**STARK MANSION, NYC - JULY 31, 1991 5:00PM**

Pepper and Natasha allowed themselves to be led through the enormous mansion by Helen, finally coming to the grand dining room they had seen earlier on their tour. Ornate paintings in gold frames covered the walls, and two long metal chandeliers hung from the ceiling. The woman gestured for them to sit at the long wooden table that stretched across the centre of the room. The table could easily seat 30 people. Natasha and Pepper sat next to one another and took up only a small corner of it.

"Now, what would either of you like for dinner this evening?" Helen asked. Her voice echoed in the cavernous room.

The pair looked at each other, unprepared to answer the question. "What are you serving?" asked Pepper.

"Anything you'd like, ma'am," said Helen politely. "The chef is skilled in a variety of different cuisines and is standing by. He doesn't normally prepare a proper dinner. Mr. Stark usually just requests sandwiches in his study around this time."

Pepper was very familiar with the unconventional eating patterns of a Stark man. She felt for the chef. "I'm not sure... Natasha?" she asked.

Natasha looked nonplussed and immediately replied "A New York strip steak, medium rare, with asparagus, mushrooms, and mashed potatoes." Pepper's eyes widened. "What," said Natasha, with a raised eyebrow, "when in Rome..."

"Two steaks then, please," said Pepper. Helen quietly stepped away to let the chef know.

"I'm surprised," said Natasha to Pepper once Helen had left, "I didn't take you for someone uncomfortable with wealth. You've been with Stark for a long time, after all."

"I'm not uncomfortable," said Pepper, "just unprepared, I suppose. Tony may be wealthy, but he goes about it..." she paused, "differently... than this."

"I'd noticed that too," Natasha replied.

There was an awkward silence for a moment, as the realization that both had been Tony's assistant at one point consumed the moment. The two women tried to find something to say to one another.

"You know," said Pepper, "I don't think Tony even owns a dining table that isn't circular or seats more than a few people. Or that we've ever really had a proper dining room." She chose to fill the awkwardness with rambling. "Not that he needs one, it's not as though he throws a lot of dinner parties. Parties yes, but this..." she trailed off, gesturing at the size and majesty of the room they were in. "This is definitely not his style."

"I remember. His version of entertaining would not really work in this setting," Natasha said. Pepper gave a small chuckle, remembering Tony's last birthday party at the Malibu house. "But then again, I don't really see Tony's personality working in this setting," Natasha said. "It's strange to think about."

"It is. He doesn't really talk about it," Pepper said.

Silence settled over them again for a moment.

"Where do you think Tony's mother is, really?" asked Natasha.

This question startled Pepper. "What do you mean?" Pepper asked, knowing exactly what Natasha meant.

"The master bedroom was pristine. It's obviously not currently in use by Howard or his wife. Not that I think the man would show us his actual bedroom on what amounted to a press tour of the house. Several of the other bedrooms were locked, at least one of which would be Tony's, which means that Howard and his wife are potentially sleeping in separate rooms. They also have far too many employees working here, including the chef, in spite of the fact that Howard's supposedly living here alone, which means that either there wasn't enough time in advance to let the staff know that she wouldn't be here or they expect her back any day. Plus, the answer Howard gave when you asked the question was almost certainly rehearsed. She's definitely not living here, but I doubt it was a planned trip to Europe. And you wouldn't have asked the question if you'd known, so where do you think she is?"

"I don't know," Pepper said, honestly. "Tony never talks about her. If mothers come up in conversation, he always changes the subject, even if we're talking about my mother."

"She's almost never mentioned in any of the biographies," Pepper continued, "and when she is, it's always briefly - the story of how Howard met her, how beautiful their wedding was, how pleased she was to become a mother, all of the things you'd expect to hear about the wife of the great Howard Stark. She was known to make appearances at galas or events with Howard, and was, from all accounts, a charming and beautiful woman, but very little is actually known about her."

"That's highly unusual," Natasha said, "given how much her husband and son are in the public eye."

Not as unusual as you would think," said Pepper. "History is full of the stories of great men. The stories of the women who loved them and supported them tend to be told less often." Natasha understood that Pepper was speaking from personal experience. How often had Stark's actions and decisions overshadowed Pepper's own impressive accomplishments at Stark Industries over the years?

"Well," said Natasha, "we are in the woman's house. If we were ever going to find out more about her, this would be the time and place to do it." The suggestion in her tone was obvious.

"The staff will see us snooping..." said Pepper.

"The staff are hired not to ask questions, and spying happens to be my occupation. Besides, I'm sure that the guys will be talking science all night. How else are we supposed to occupy ourselves?" Natasha asked. "It serves them right for leaving us alone."

Pepper looked torn, but eventually her curiosity won out. "Fine. But we eat first. I'm starving."

Natasha gave a slight nod, and began recalling the staff and layout of the house in her mind, plotting.

 

* * *

 

**STARK MANSION, NYC - AUGUST 12, 2014 4:30PM**

The house was dark and dust permeated the atmosphere, the occasional ray of light cutting a path through it from a window. The creak of footsteps on the old wooden floorboards echoed off the high ceilings as Nick Fury crept up the staircase in the foyer towards the second floor where he knew Howard Stark's study was located.

Once there, he gave a tug on a wall sconce, but the bookcase he was expecting to shift stayed where it was. It took a hard push to finally shift the shelf enough for the man enter the workshop, the metal machinery meant to reveal the entrance creaking and groaning with rust after so many years of neglect.

Inside, things were less dreary. The workshop, Fury knew, was essentially a bomb shelter, protected from the outside world by layers of metal and insulation placed within its walls which also had the added bonus of keeping oxygen out and preserving the equipment, preventing it from rusting. No dust covers were placed over the furniture in this room - in fact, had the man who had last used this space not died over 20 years earlier, it was almost as if the space was still in use. Notebooks were open with pens still poised to be picked up next to them. A plate sat on a workbench, crumbs of a sandwich still there. It was eerie.

Fury ran his hand over several of the machines that occupied the space. The large surgical table and capsule that had been a part of Project Rebirth. A half-built jetpack that, amusingly, vaguely resembled the Iron Man armour in many ways. Finally, his hand rested on the machine he had come here for.

It was far more intricate than the other equipment in the room, its machinery and parts miniaturized in comparison to the larger equipment surrounding it. It was a metal box just big enough to hold a cube the size of a fist, surrounded by a cage that raised the box off the ground and featuring a tangle of wires and metal tubing that Fury could only guess at the logic behind. But he knew that it would work. It had to work. This was the machine that was meant to get the Avengers home.

Just then, his phone chirped, and he pulled it out hoping it was who he thought it was. "Hill, please tell me you've heard from him?" he barked.

There was a pause. "We've more than heard from him, sir. There's been activity again in the Arctic. It appears that Thor is on Earth, sir. And he's brought the Tesseract with him."

"Excellent," said Fury. "Right on schedule."


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Steve and Peggy make a new date, the Red Skull complicates things, and Clint tries to figure out what the hell is going on (with no success)

**SSR BASE, NYC - JULY 31, 1991 2:45PM**

Steve clutched Peggy tightly to him, feeling his eyes begin to water. She felt slight and frail in his arms, but he didn't care. All that mattered was that she was Peggy Carter. And he was here.

"I'm sorry I'm so late for our date," he choked out, a sob in his voice.

He could feel her vibrate with soft laughter as she pulled back from him and looked him in the eyes, her makeup running and smudging from tears. "That's okay. I understood then and I understand now. God, Steve..." she hesitated, "You look just the same as I remember. It's almost like..." The end of her sentence remained unspoken, but its meaning hung thickly in the air. It was almost like he had never been gone, but so many years had passed for her.

She couldn't continue and broke down, and Steve directed her to a bench attached to the wall nearby and sat with her, holding her and kissing her hair softly while she cried. "I'm here now. I'm okay and I'm here now." He repeated this to her like a mantra, soothing her until finally she calmed down. They sat in silence for a moment.

All at once, her sadness was replaced by a quick flash of anger, the temper Steve remembered. "Stark! Oh, that man! Why didn't he call me when they found you in the ice? It has to have been weeks ago for you to be standing here now in front of me, so warm." She rubbed his arms as she said this, as though she was half-expecting his skin to still be cold. "Next time I see him, I owe him a telling off for keeping this from me. I'm surprised he was able to hold the news in. It's not like him not to brag when he's accomplished something impressive, and this... this is impressive. I can't believe you're here."

She caught his eyes again, and Steve felt a sudden ache in his chest. Her eyes were just as brown, and twinkled just as they always had when they looked at him. They were the same eyes he'd briefly gazed into on that runway as she kissed him the car, the last time he'd seen her. So many things were different now, but those were the same. He hung onto that. He stared back, his blue eyes piercing her heart in the same way. "You're real," she said, "You're here. And I'm..." She looked away embarrassed.

"...beautiful." Steve finished for her as she said "...old." She blushed slightly.

"I'm 73 years old," she said, sadly. "And you're..."

"71," Steve said, having to complete a quick calculation in his head, "I would have been 71 this year. I'm just a couple years younger than you."

Peggy shook her head, "That may be technically correct, but we both know that's not true. Not really."

Steve looked at her slowly, taking her in. He knew how it must look to her, to others observing them, a handsome young man sitting with such an elderly woman. She was thin, and much shorter than he remembered. Her once brown hair was almost pure white, with whisps of gray in places. She had wrinkles where there had been none before, and her features had sunken in with age. "It doesn't matter," Steve said. And he meant it. "Peggy, the way I feel hasn't changed. I..." He felt a tear slip down his cheeks as he tried to articulate what he wanted to say.

"Don't say it!" Peggy cut him off. "Please..."

So he didn't. It could wait. He had time. In fact, Steve realized that he could calculate exactly how much time he had down to the minute if he wanted to. The realization gave him a new determination. "...I owe you a date. Dinner. And dancing. What do you say?" He looked down at their hands, clasped together, and grinned at her, unable to keep from expressing his joy and nervousness.

She smiled at him, but with a sadness still behind her eyes, and nodded her head. "Well, I don't know about where we could go dancing these days, but Anucci's is still around the corner from here. We do have a lot to catch up on."

"We certainly do," Steve said. He could see Fury observing the two of them out of the corner of his eye. He knew he needed to talk to the man. "Tonight? At 5pm? I can meet you back here. How would that be?"

Peggy nodded, her eyes still shining with unshed tears. It was a date. And this time, there was nothing in the universe that could keep Steve from it.

 

* * *

 

**ARCTIC CIRCLE - JULY 31, 1991 2:45PM**

Agent Karlsonn awoke with a start, on his back in the wet snow with his vision blurred and his head aching. Someone was shoving him. He could also feel wetness dripping onto his face from above. Where was he?

Suddenly, he remembered. The Red Skull. His eyes shot open and his vision cleared, the image coming into focus above him making him wish it hadn't. It was horrifying. There was some kind of a creature, mammoth, green and inhuman, staring at him with wide, curious eyes, its drool dripping onto him from tentacles protruding from an orifice on its face which Karlsonn hoped was a mouth. It appeared to be sniffing him. Karlsonn could only tremble, his heart racing, and attempt to shimmy away from the thing, but he found his hands were bound behind his back, making movement next to impossible.

The thing, the alien, suddenly reached out with a mandible of some kind and yanked the man roughly forward, pulling him onto his feet, which were thankfully unbound. It marched him forward in the snow, shoving him with its head to prompt him to move. Karlsonn walked slowly and began to take in his surroundings, anxiety and terror building.

He could see the bodies of his men littered around the ice, their blood shining crimson, spreading out into pools underneath them and staining the ice. The equipment had been running, that much was obvious. A hole had been cut into the ice the size of a cavern, impossible in such a short amount of time without disregarding both the integrity of the ice and the safety of those drilling. In the pit that was created by the drilling, Karlsonn could see the very thing that he and his team had been searching for being lifted out of the ice slowly, being pulled up by hydraulic equipment manned by a half-dozen creatures like the one currently prodding him. At the centre of the activity, the Red Skull loomed, shouting orders at the creatures in another language.

The sky above them reflected the chaos below. Karlsonn had never seen anything like it, but the entire atmosphere around them was flashing blue and white, and he thought he could glimpse stars he'd never seen before piercing through the electric distortions in the air.

And in the centre of it all, the wreck of the Valkyrie slowly rose higher and higher from the centre of the pit, its shining black surface reflecting the air and seeming to portend an imminent doom. This, Karlsonn thought, was the end of the world. Why, oh why, had they kept him alive to see it?

 

* * *

 

**ARCTIC CIRCLE - AUGUST 12, 2014 5:30PM**

Clint woke up slowly, his mind groggy, with a warm feeling permeating his body. He rolled over and threw his hand out to what he thought, in his haze, was his bedside table where his phone would be, but instead felt only air. It was then that he realized that something was different.

He slowly opened his eyes, taking in the doctor's office he appeared to be in. His leg throbbed strangely, and he looked down to see his leg bandaged and splinted. Oh, right. He was still in the Arctic, he realized. The warm feeling came from the painkillers rushing through him. He hadn't had some kind of weird fever dream in which a bearded Steve Rogers had suddenly appeared behind an ominous door and flipped everything he thought he knew about the man on its head. It had all been real. Wonderful.

As Clint got his bearings, another feeling suddenly overtook him. He leaned back, overwhelmed, and let it wash over him. It was nervousness. Fear. A strange sensation prickling at the back of his neck that made the hairs there stand up on end and chilled him to his bones. He was definitely still in the Arctic. And the Tesseract was definitely nearby. It was like a freaky sixth sense that Clint couldn't explain, but he knew it was true. He'd felt it all day, but never this strongly.

Slowly, he sat up, his leg still aching, and shuffled forward until he could lift himself off of the hospital bed he was laying on. He looked around desperately to see if there was anything he could use as a crutch, and noticed an actual crutch leaning against the wall near the bed, thoughtfully placed there for him, likely by Steve.

Grabbing the crutch and placing it under his arm, he rose gently, hissing in pain as he put more pressure on his leg than it wanted to take. After a moment, he adjusted and he began to slowly move forward, taking in more detail about his surroundings.

The office he was in clearly functioned as both a medical bay and laboratory. It was clearly well used, and slightly cluttered, so Steve was not alone in this base. There was at least one doctor around. Clint wondered where the doctor had been when Steve had brought him in.

The door was slightly open, so Clint made his way to it and found himself in a long hallway. There were voices in conversation at the end of the hallway, two men. Clint's poor hearing meant that he had no way of discerning much more than that. He moved slowly towards the sound.

At the end of the hallway, he peeked through the door, only to be startled by the feeling of a hand on his shoulder. He spun around to be faced with Sitorsky, looking at him, concerned. "I'm glad you're finally awake," the man said. "Things have been getting strange around here and I'm not sure what I'm supposed to be doing."

"Strange?" Clint asked.

Sitorsky nodded. "There was a crash not that long after you passed out, and then pounding on the door. Thor."

"Thor?" Clint asked, confused. Thor was here? He thought that Steve and Tony had said that they hadn't been able to get ahold of the Norse God.

"Yes. With the Tesseract."

Clint didn't know what to do with this piece of information. If Thor had the Tesseract with him, then why was he here? What had happened out on that ice?

"What did they do when Thor arrived?" Clint asked.

"They told me to watch you and let them know when you woke up and left to talk privately. I've just been wandering around since then, trying to figure things out. This place isn't right. There's not supposed to be a SHIELD base here, I don't understand it."

"What do you mean this place isn't right?" asked Clint.

"You've talked to Captain Rogers recently, yes?" Sitorsky asked.

"Yeah, just this morning. That's the weird thing. He had a beard. How the hell could he have a beard?" Clint didn't understand what was happening.

"I think he has a beard because he's been living here, Agent Barton. I don't know how, but he's definitely been here for a long time. There are bedrooms for a few people actually, and framed photographs, heirlooms, clutter. There's enough food on site to feed an army. I'm not sure where everyone else went, but I definitely didn't get the sense he just got here this morning."

"Yeah?" Clint asked, "But that's not possible. I'm telling you, it's not!"

"The Tesseract is here, Barton. I saw what it did to the New Mexico base, and what it did to you. As far as I'm concerned, when that thing is around anything is possible. And that's terrifying." Sitorsky bounced on his feet, his whole body alive with fear and nerves.

Suddenly, the door Clint had been trying to peek through opened and the God of Thunder emerged, grasping Clint in a firm bear hug. "Clint Barton!" Thor exclaimed, "It is good to see you. I am sorry that it has to be under these circumstances."

"What circumstances?" Clint asked, looking at Steve standing behind Thor out of the corner of his eye. The man did, in fact, look wearier, slightly older, different than Clint remembered him.

"Has Steven not informed you of what has happened?" Thor asked, "Our friends have become trapped in the past. I am here so that we might rescue them and ensure their safe return home."

"Huh," said Clint. That was not what he had been expecting. This day just kept getting more and more interesting.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Tony and Bruce get a glimpse of Howard's sanctuary, and Pepper and Natasha do some snooping.

**STARK MANSION, NYC - JULY 31, 1991 7:30PM**

  
Tony couldn't help but be impressed as the narrow passageway that was revealed off of the study opened up almost immediately into a large, open workshop not that dissimilar from the one Tony kept in Stark Tower. However, this workshop immediately suffered, in Tony's opinion, from a lack of robots or any remotely sentient presence other than their own. Tony felt a sudden pang of loss as he thought about JARVIS, Dummy and You back at Stark Tower. He wondered if they missed him or even realized he had disappeared yet, if they would notice at all before he was home.

The space was also more wildly disorganized than how Tony preferred his spaces to be kept. Wires and tools were strewn every which way, and at least a dozen unfinished or broken machines took up space in the room, many of them clearly weapons with unknown purposes.

The only sign of any organization in the room was the presence of the file cabinets and bookshelves that lined the walls. Those books that had been deemed not suitable for the study were stacked or stored haphazardly everywhere. There were two enormous standing whiteboards and a standing chalk board, all covered in formulas, diagrams and drawings done in his father's familiar indecipherable shorthand, and every inch of wall space available was covered in blueprints, posters, memorabilia and, surprisingly to Tony, family photos. Adding to the chaos, some of the framed items were covered in post-it notes to the point where you could barely make out what they were supposed to be. One lone computer stood in the corner of the room, but it was turned off and it did not appear as though it got much use.

There were no cars in Howard's workshop. In fact, the workshop did not appear to open up to the outside of the property in any way. Tony smiled when he realized that this could be because his father knew how much Tony liked the cars growing up. Many of the cars in Tony's collection he had actually inherited from Howard. They had always worked on them together. Judging by the way his father kept his workshop, they wouldn't have stayed in pristine condition in this space for very long anyway.

Much like Tony's own workshop, there was a small cot bed and a mini-fridge. Unlike his workshop, however, there were also dirty dishes and old food still present. Tony assumed that no staff were ever allowed, or likely even knew about, the workshop, and so it got as messy as Howard let it get. Another reason, Tony reflected, that he loved his bots. They always took care of those things for him.

As Tony looked around, he felt strange, as though he were intruding on something very private. His own workshop was his sanctuary, and this was his fathers, one that he had never gotten a glimpse of growing up. His father had never shared it with him, for reasons Tony wished he knew. But here was, sharing it with people who, for all Howard knew, were strangers. How could his father have been that trusting? Tony thought about the way his father had embraced Steve as though no years had passed between them, about how even after everything that the man had been a part of - World War II, the Cold War, building weapons and managing government contracts the entire time, having his entire life play out in the press and media - the man still seemed so open and willing to put his faith in people. How was it possible? Tony could never be so genuine with people, could never have as many employees milling around all the time on any of his properties and be comfortable, could never accept things at face value when presented with them the way Howard seemed to. For the first time, Tony could clearly see the differences between himself and his father. He wished he'd understood those differences sooner.

Tony had spent so long hating his father leading up to the man's death that when he looked back on it, he couldn't remember what he had actually hated him for or when it had started. The hatred and antagonism had at some point just became the natural state of their relationship in Tony's mind. Had his own trust issues been part of the problem? When had they started? His mind wandered towards trying to find the answer, but his thoughts were interrupted.

"Wow," said Bruce, approaching a particularly large machine that looked vaguely like a sensory deprivation tank to Tony. "Is this what I think it is?"

Bruce was impressed, and that didn't happen very often. Things let him down far more often than they surprised him.

"That depends," said Howard, stepping towards a pile of wires and broken parts and diving into them trying to reveal something underneath, "on what you think it is. Bruce, was it?"

Bruce realized that they had yet to be properly introduced. It was strange to think about, that he needed to introduce himself to Tony's father, who also happened to be one of the greatest minds of the 20th century. It was intimidating, and it wasn't something he had ever expected to happen. Suddenly, the abstract nature of their situation solidified into something more tangible in Bruce's mind. "Yes. Bruce Banner. Doctor Bruce Banner. And it's really a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Stark. Truly."

"Well, I'd say it's a pleasure to meet you, but I really don't know that yet, do I?"

There was an awkward silence for a moment between Bruce and Howard, but Tony just rolled his eyes. He knew his father's sense of humour.

"Kidding!" Howard finally said with a cheeky grin, slapping Bruce on the back gently. "Now, you didn't answer my question Bruce. What do you think it is?"

Bruce exhaled the breath he realized he'd been holding, nervous, and looked back at the machine. He still couldn't believe what he was looking at. "I think it's the radiation chamber from Project Rebirth. I recognize it from the photographs."

Howard continued to chuck metal parts and wires about the room, digging for something.

"You're a fan of Cap, I take it?" he asked.

"No, actually. Well... not no, exactly. Everyone's a fan of Captain America, really..."

"Tell that to my kid." Howard interrupted with a chuckle. Tony rolled his eyes again. He felt like he was reverting quickly to a surly teenager in his father's presence. The man was not wrong, though. Tony had never been a member of the Captain America fan club growing up, probably because he had grown tired of hearing so many stories about the man. He knew he probably owed Steve an apology. He had been unfair to him when they met for that very reason.

Bruce continued. "I'm actually more of a fan of the project itself. Of your work, and of Dr. Erskine. What you accomplished was incredible. And I say that having met Steve and seen the results firsthand."

"Well," said Howard, "I would really give most of the credit for how Steve turned out to Steve, to be honest. I didn't do all that much really, I just pitched in where I was needed. And Dr. Erskine would have been the first to tell you that Steve could just have easily have ended up a psychopathic madman given the way his experiment went the first time around. It was pure luck and finding the right man for the job that made Project Rebirth a success, that's all. That's why they've never been able to replicate the results. And believe me, they've tried."

Bruce reached out and touched the radiation chamber, felt how cool the metal was to the touch and tried to picture a young, skinny Steve Rogers inside it, tried to recreate the experiment in his mind. The memories quickly turned towards his own, similar experience. The day of his accident. The room seemed to vanish for a moment. He regained control with a shiver and came back to reality. "I'm well aware of how lucky you got, Mr. Stark. Believe me."

Tony looked at him with understanding in his eyes, which also contained far too much pity for Bruce's comfort, before they noticed that the crashing of objects hitting the ground had ceased.

"Eureka!" exclaimed Howard, and Bruce and Tony saw that the man had revealed a small safe. "Gentlemen, the object which has brought us all here. I give you the Tesseract." He turned the combination and opened the safe door, and the familiar gentle blue light flooded the room.

"Let's get to work!" Howard said, rubbing his hands together with far too much enthusiasm for what they were about to do. And they got started.

* * *

 

**STARK MANSION, NYC - JULY 31, 1991 8:00PM**

Once Pepper and Natasha had finished their meal, they had decided to begin their search for clues regarding Tony's mother in the bedrooms. They began with the master bedroom that Howard had shown them on the tour, but Pepper quickly had to agree with Natasha. It was obvious that it was not currently in use. There were very few clothes in the dresser drawers or closet, and no dirty laundry or even laundry basket. The attached bathroom had no toiletries. The Starks were definitely not sharing a marital bed at the moment, but Natasha and Pepper were unable to deduce much else.

In the hallway, Natasha asked Pepper to be the lookout for any staff who might wander by, and pulled out the lockpick she always kept tucked into her bra. It was time to widen their search to rooms they hadn't already seen. Pepper was nervous, but Natasha was quick, and she worked to unlock the door across the hall from the master bedroom. As the door finally opened, Pepper saw a maid exit one of the rooms at the end of the hall, and quickly shoved Natasha through the door with a squeak, shutting it behind them before they could be spotted. The door slammed, but thankfully the maid did not follow them in to see what they were up to. She must not have noticed which room they had entered.

Pepper stumbled around for the light switch in the dark, and finally found it. She was not prepared for the guilt that overwhelmed her when the light came on. The room that they were in clearly did not belong to Howard or Maria. The Ferrari poster on the wall and MIT banner gave it away as belonging to Tony. This was not where she had been intending to end up.

"Now this is interesting," said Natasha. Clearly she wasn't burdened with the same conflicted emotions as Pepper and sauntered into the middle of the room, looking around eagerly.

"No," said Pepper, "this is not interesting. This is intruding on Tony's privacy. We shouldn't be here."

"I'm surprised to hear you say that," said Natasha. "I thought you wanted answers about his mother. We might find them here. And other things." She raised an eyebrow at Pepper, lifting up the corner of Tony's mattress and pulling out an obviously well-read copy of Hustler. "Hustler. Huh. I thought the man had more class than that."

Pepper made a noise of disagreement. The Hustler certainly didn't surprise her. Not only had she been Tony's girlfriend, but she'd walked in on enough of his sexual escapades over the years to know that class was not something anyone should associate with the man in the bedroom. In fact, he'd been kicked out of the Playboy Mansion personally by Hugh Hefner for lacking exactly that.

"Apparently you can't read people as well as you thought," she told Natasha.

There was a silence between them, but it was more comfortable than it had been in the past. Pepper refused to move past the doorway, but couldn't help but look around. Natasha chose to rifle through the various thick physics textbooks and science fiction novels on the bookshelves, one at a time, systematically.

"It makes me uncomfortable," Natasha finally said.

"The Hustler?" Pepper asked, surprised.

"No, Tony. You're right. I can't read him the way I should be able to. He's too unpredictable." Natasha replied. "Did he tell you that I initially advised Fury that he shouldn't be a part of the Avengers Initiative?"

"No," Pepper told Natasha, honestly. "He didn't. But then he neglects to tell me a lot of things. Like that he was dying of Palladium poisoning. Or that he'd been approached for the Avengers Initiative initially. Or that he'd been building new suits. Or that he'd decided to fund the Avengers personally and cut ties with SHIELD. You could fill the Grand Canyon with the things Tony doesn't tell me. When was this?"

"After everything with Vanko and Hammer. Determining whether or not Tony was suitable for the Avengers was the entire reason Fury asked me to pose as his assistant. And I told Fury that it was a bad fit. I read the situation wrong. Read Stark wrong. And I don't think he's forgiven me for it."

Pepper observed Natasha for a moment. The woman was, as usual, a blank slate. However, Pepper had known her long enough to know the subtle signs in her body language and expression that demonstrated that the woman felt genuinely sad about what had happened. "Natasha," she said, "I'm sure that Tony understands. You caught him at a pretty insane point in his life. He wasn't exactly making the best choices at the time."

"Still," Natasha replied, "I can't keep going like this. I can't live in Stark Tower, work in the field with him, have his back and expect him to have mine, without being able to read him. I have an opportunity to get in his head here - to learn what I need to know. I intend to take it. If you feel guilty about helping me, then maybe you shouldn't be here."

Natasha went back to her search, picking up some of the physics textbooks from the shelf and rifling through their contents. Pepper turned and hesitated for a moment, her hand on the door handle, before turning back around. "No," she said firmly. "I'll help. After everything that man has put me through, I think I'm actually owed some answers. And he won't give them to me himself. Besides, what he doesn't know won't hurt him."

Natasha continued to look through the books. Pepper didn't know what she was looking for. She walked over to the bedside table and picked up a framed picture sitting there. It was of Tony at a science fair or exposition of some kind. He was very young, maybe eight years old, and he was standing next to a robot that was taller than him that reminded Pepper of a very rudimentary version of Dummy. She picked up another photo, which was inexplicably placed with the photo facing the desk. It was also of Tony as a child, only he was much younger, maybe three. He was sitting on the lap of the woman who Pepper recognized from photos as Maria. Unlike the other photos that Pepper had seen of Maria in public, Pepper couldn't help but be overwhelmed by the faraway look of sadness in the woman's eyes. Her son looked up at her, beaming with affection, oblivious to whatever was going on in his mothers mind as the photo was taken. Finally, a third photo, the largest of the three, showed Tony with a person Pepper could not place. He was perhaps six or seven, and the man was tall and thin with blonde hair, perhaps in his late 20's or early 30's. He was dressed impeccably in a suit, and Tony was on his lap while they sat on the mansion's front steps. Similarly to the photo with Maria, Tony was beaming up at the man with affection. Unlike the other photo, this man was beaming right back, clearly enamored with the boy. The photo was also crinkled in the frame, and had clearly been torn and then taped back together with scotch tape in multiple places. It bothered Pepper that she had no idea who this man was. An uncle? A family friend? Clearly, he had been important to Tony.

She heard a book cover slam behind her, and Pepper turned around to see Natasha staring at something that had fallen out of one of the books she had been checking. The book, Pepper saw, had been hollowed out inside. On the desk were the contents that had been hidden in the book - condoms, several mickeys of various types of alcohol, pills of various shapes and sizes, and a baggie of what looked to her eyes like cocaine. Pepper could only sigh. Tony's bad habits had clearly formed early, even improved over the years. She couldn't help but wonder what had happened to the smiling little boy in those photos to make him the conflicted and difficult man he became.


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Tony struggles to figure out his relationship with his father, Bruce has his own Daddy issues and things he isn't willing to let go of, Pepper discovers answers to her questions that only make things worse, and another person Tony thought he'd buried returns from the dead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this chapter is kind of epic and I'm really not sure about it. It was the hardest one so far to write. I hope you like it. I am trying very hard to make Tony's issues with his family (as I've said before) more complex, so hopefully his reactions and the way he deals with everything aren't too OOC.
> 
> Also, for those of of you who love Science Bros, this chapter is for you! While I was always a fan of the Tony/Bruce dynamic, this chapter actually made me love them all the more - I have discovered how much I actually love writing Bruce. However, please be aware that the past that Bruce references in this chapter is NOT really canon to either the Eric Bana Hulk movie OR the comics specifically. It's sort of an amalgam of the two, really, because I am only vaguely aware of both storylines. I just thought it would be an interesting way to explore his and Tony's friendship.
> 
> Please enjoy my longest chapter yet!

**STARK MANSION, NYC - JULY 31, 1991 10:15PM**

"No," said Tony firmly, "you're wrong on that one, old man. You're interpreting the energy spikes incorrectly. You're assuming that the spikes are being caused by the solar flares, and not considering that it could be the other way around. Correlation does not always equal causation. There's a good possibility that it's the Tesseract impacting the flares, or that there's actually no connection between the two at all."

"No connection?" said Howard, arguing fiercely, "Then explain why every time the flares occur, the Tesseract emits gamma radiation equivalent to 1/100,000 the energy of the flare exactly. There's definitely a connection and to assume otherwise is foolish. And the data is there to support the theory that the behaviour of the Tesseract during the solar flares can be used as a barometer of the equivalent energy that the Tesseract could potentially release when it taps into opening a trans-dimensional or, as we now know is a possibility, temporal portal."

"I'm not saying it's not a sound theory, just not one that you have real proof of! You certainly don't have enough hard evidence that it will work to risk sending us through a portal to God only knows where!" Tony argued back.

Bruce simply watched the pair out of the corner of his eye as he continued to take readings and collect data from the Tesseract itself, amused by both the similarities and differences between the two men. They had been arguing like this since they had begun sifting through Howard's data on the Tesseract hours ago. The arguing was irritating, but was actually proving useful, as the two men were able to bounce ideas off of each other and reach conclusions that they never would have reached on their own, challenging each other in all the right ways. Bruce knew how infrequently Tony encountered someone who was as smart as he was, and as a result the other man's enthusiasm, energy and willingness to provoke were present in full force. Apparently his father was much the same. But even so, Bruce could also sense the tension and uncomfortable emotion in the room, most of it coming from Tony. He wondered if Howard had picked up on it, not that the older man would understand it. He may have attributed it to the scotch the pair had been enjoying since Howard confessed to having a bottle of "the good stuff, stashed away for just this sort of occasion" in his own words.

Bruce, who couldn't drink and wouldn't even if he could in this setting, had been content to observe the Tesseract and take readings, fascinated by the strange glowing celestial object. While he had studied its energy signature extensively during and after the Battle of New York, he had never actually been in the presence of it personally other than when observing Thor and Loki's departure back to Asgard. The opportunity to work with it was exciting to Bruce, especially now that they knew more about its potential to affect time as well as space. With something this interesting in front of him, he found it easy to keep calm and tune out the two Stark men.

His concentration was broken, however, by a sudden "ding" noise, not unlike a doorbell, echoing through the cavernous space. All three men looked up as the noise was followed by a crackling of static, and a muffled voice relaying a message. "Mr. Stark you have a visitor."

Howard sighed in exasperation before going over to a nearby wall panel and pressing a button attached to a speaker. "If it is who I think it is, tell him that I'm busy and I'll deal with it in the morning."

Static again, then the voice returned. "I tried to tell him you were busy, sir. He's been calling the house for some time. He's insistent that he won't leave until you speak to him and that it's urgent."

Tony and Bruce looked at each other, confused, as Howard made up his mind to go and deal with his unexpected guest. "My company needs me," Howard offered as an explanation. He tried to smile, but it didn't reach his eyes. "It'll only take a minute. Wait here, and I'll be right back." He left, and they heard him yell out a last minute "Don't touch anything, Justin!" as the machinery operating the door slid it shut behind him. Clearly, whoever the visitor was, Howard did not want them knowing about the workshop or his other guests.

Tony let out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding and went back to reviewing the data in front of him.

After a moment of comfortable silence, Bruce asked the question he'd been waiting for an opportunity to ask. "Are you okay, Tony?"

"What?" said Tony distractedly. "I'm fine. Great. Why wouldn't I be?"

Bruce readied himself for the defensive response he knew Tony would have to his follow-up comments. "Tony, not only have we been thrown back in time more than twenty years, which is in and of itself upsetting and strange, but Howard's not just some scientist or SSR agent we've run into. He's your father. And, not to pry, but you've never really talked about him or given any impression that you had a good relationship with the man. It must be difficult."

"Aren't you usually pretty insistent with me that you're not that kind of doctor, Bruce. What do you care?" Tony replied.

Bruce had prepared for defensiveness and got it, but it didn't really sting any less. "What do I care? How can you ask me that? Of course I care about you. It's hard for me to see you hurting like this. I want to understand it, Tony, so that I can help. What happened between the two of you?"

Tony was silent for a long moment. Bruce knew that the man was very good at deflecting things he didn't want to talk about, and expected him to change the subject, make a joke, or maybe even leave the room. But Tony surprised him.

"I don't know." said Tony.

"You don't know?" Bruce asked.

"I wish I did, but I don't. Before all this, before SHIELD and meeting Steve, I thought I knew. But now, I genuinely can't remember why things were so difficult between us. I keep looking at him and trying to find the reason, trying to find something to hate him for, but I can't. I'm starting to realize that maybe it was never him. And if it wasn't him, that means it must have been me, which is so much worse." Tony took a deep breath and looked shattered, but continued, needing to talk through his thought process.

"I mean, the man has his flaws. But who doesn't? He drinks, but he was never a drunk. He worked a lot when I was a kid, but he still made the time for me when he could. He was distant sometimes, but he also had a lot going on. These are all things that I know now, and maybe I even knew them at the time. But somewhere along the line, I started to resent him. I hated him growing up. I mean, really hated him. I hated everything he stood for. Hated his company. Hated this house. Hated the fact that I had his last name. I felt suffocated, still feel suffocated here, like nothing I did meant anything. Everything I did was just trying to escape him, escape the fact that people expected me to be him, and I couldn't. And I blamed him, for so many things. I took it out on him, even when it wasn't his fault. And one day he was just gone. They both were, he and my mother. No warning. They left me alone and I had no idea what I was supposed to do. And I blamed him for that too. It was unfair, but that's what I did. Because that's who I am, apparently. I'm an ungrateful asshole who has spent my entire life trying to escape a legacy of greatness that was handed to me."

Bruce didn't know what to say to any of this. He was a good listener, but comforting others wasn't something he was really equipped to do. So he faked being asleep instead, or cracked a joke. He and Tony had that in common. Finally, he decided that he had to say something. "You're being too hard on yourself, Tony."

"Really?" Tony asked desperately, his voice thick with emotion. "Look at this place!" He stretched his arms out to indicate the enormity of the mansion. "It's enormous and beautiful and full of history. I grew up here, Bruce. Surrounded by the best tutors and nannies and security that money could buy. I traveled all over the world - vacationed on private islands, stayed in the private homes of some of the most brilliant and influential people in the world. I had everything and anything that a kid could ask for. And my father was one of the greatest men of the 20th century. You've met the man, and I'm sure you already love him. Everybody loves him. He was best friends with Captain America, for Christ's sake. He was a great man, and he gave me everything. And what did I do with it? I threw it all back in his face, and what I didn't throw back I fucked up. Tell me I'm wrong!" He demanded an answer.

Bruce stared back at Tony, emotions churning inside him, wanting the words "You're wrong" to come out of his mouth. They wouldn't come. He knew that if they did he would be lying and Tony would know. He could feel the Hulk within him beginning to make his presence known, and he breathed calmly in the intense silence, willing the beast to stay where he was. He'd been so good since they ended up in this era, and he needed to maintain his control. Inwardly, he once again promised the Hulk that when he needed him, when the moment was right, he would set him free. He pitied whoever was on the wrong end of that rampage when it happened.

Finally, he had calmed himself enough to reply to Tony. "You're not wrong," he said, matter of factly.

Tony just stared back, pain in his eyes, wanting to be comforted but needing the truth.

"I wish I could tell you that you are, Tony. But you're not." Bruce paused for a moment to let what he was saying sink in, before he continued, filling the silence with an explanation for his words that he needed Tony to understand.

"I grew up in a foster home where I lived with a half dozen other children at any given time. The couple who raised me were nice, but they weren't my parents and I knew it. I couldn't live with my parents because my father was a drunk who beat the hell out of my mother and I, and my mother never had the courage to leave him and so he killed her. The foster home was okay. It was just difficult, living with so many other people, so many of them being there temporarily. School was hard. Nobody understood me, and I had no help. There wasn't money for tutors or the equipment I needed to advance my education on my own. If I hadn't been offered a scholarship, I never would have been able to even consider going to college, and even then I had to work my way through my education because the scholarship never covered all the costs. It was difficult, Tony. I've never had things easy. I've always had to work twice as hard and twice as long as everyone else to even have them notice I was in the room, and I've always been alone. I've gone hungry, and I've lived on nothing, and I've gone without. So I'm not going to lie and tell you that you haven't had it easy and that you didn't throw away opportunities you were given. And that there isn't a small part of me that looks at the choices you made and is jealous, and petty, and resents you for them."

Bruce could feel the anger and jealousy rise again as he told Tony his story, but he pushed it down along with the Hulk, compartmentalizing his emotions as he always had. He needed Tony to understand.

"I also understand that the choices you made are in the past, Tony. And you're a good person now. You're my friend now. You've done so much for me. You've taken me in and given me a home and a family. Not just me, but all of the Avengers. And you've done so much for the world as Iron Man and through Stark Industries. I know that you regret the things you've done, and I know that you work hard every day to make up for those lost opportunities and those poor choices. You need to think about who you are now Tony, and not dwell on who you were. You're here now. And so is your father. You have a chance to get some closure, and make what you can right. That's more than most people ever get."

The silence descended upon the room again, the air thick with tension as they both contemplated what Bruce had just revealed. "Damn, Brucie," Tony finally said gently, "You've been holding out on me. I mean, that's some pretty serious family drama right there. It's kind of impossible for me to feel sorry for myself now."

"Don't do that..." said Bruce. "Don't feel sorry for me. That's not why I-"

"I know that's not why you told me that." Tony interrupted. "Don't worry. I'm not going to start tiptoeing around you anymore than I already do. Which we both know is actually not often enough for you anyway. Just... wow. Your life sucked. I'm so glad that you met me now."

Bruce couldn't help the small smile that crept onto his face as Tony began to tease him, and the tension in the air immediately dissipated. "Seriously? That would be what you would take away from this conversation..."

"What? That I'm awesome and make your life so much better. That without me you'd be a sad sack hunched over a trashcan fire in some third world country, easily mistaken for a hobo?" Tony said with a grin. "Come here," he said, pulling the man into an awkward hug.

"Stop it," Bruce said, withdrawing into himself and away from the hug. His body language didn't match the smile crinkling his eyes.

"Awww, Brucey, you know you love me." Tony said. Finally, Bruce gave into the other man and awkwardly brought up an arm to hug him back. "Who the hell is my old man talking to at this time of night? I can't just not find out now."

The hug turned into Tony practically sprinting towards the workshop door as Tony's short attention span ended the moment. "You coming?" he yelled at Bruce.

"No, you go. I'll wait here," said Bruce.

Once Tony had left, Bruce took a moment to breathe in the brief moment of solitude and quiet, helped by the gentle hum and peaceful blue light of the Tesseract in the room. He walked to a nearby trash can, and pulled a letter written in ink on torn notebook paper from his front shirt pocket. Opening it, he reread the first few lines, contemplating them.

"Dear Dr. Banner. You may not believe me, but I have important information for you that could potentially effect your future..."

From a nearby table, Bruce retrieved a lighter, flicked it on and held the flame up to the corner of the paper, not sure if he was ready to let go of the opportunity to change his past but risk missing out on his future with the Avengers. However, at the last minute, he changed his mind and tucked the paper back into his front shirt pocket. He wasn't ready to let go of it just yet.

 

* * *

 

**STARK MANSION, NYC - JULY 31, 1991 10:05PM**

Pepper and Natasha finished with Tony's bedroom, carefully having placed his contraband items back where they found them. Other than that little surprise, the room was actually rather boring. It appeared that any possessions Tony truly cared about had made the journey to MIT with him. Any secret items they were hoping to uncover - any childhood toys, journals or notebooks, anything that would give them further insight into Tony's childhood - were apparently stored elsewhere. They left the room slightly disappointed.

The room next to Tony's was even less interesting, as it was Howard's. It contained several scientific papers and magazines on the bedside table, a couple of bottles of alcohol and some glasses, and little else. Pepper suspected that, like Tony, Howard spent most nights when nobody was around to warm his bed sleeping in his workshop. The only valuable piece of information Natasha was able to ascertain was that based on the state of both Tony and Howard's rooms, the housekeeping staff did not regularly clean or even enter the locked rooms.

Finally, they came to the room they had initially been looking for. Next to Howard's room was the room that clearly belonged to Tony's mother, Maria. There was a closet full of designer dresses, and a family portrait of her with Howard and Tony on the bedside table. However, even it was strangely lacking in personal effects, which again disappointed the women. Pepper decided to remain in the bedroom, but Natasha was bolder and decided to check the attached bathroom.

As Pepper looked around, she couldn't help but wonder about the strange lack of personality that all three rooms reflected. The mansion was so enormous, yet Pepper had a hard time believing that any of it's residents truly called it home based on what she had seen so far. It made Pepper sad, but deeply curious. As her eyes fell on a half-bottle of wine sitting next to the bed, and a wine stain on the carpet that would likely never come out, she heard Natasha squeak in surprise from the bathroom.

"What's wrong?" Pepper asked, exiting the bedroom to see what Natasha had found. Inside the small bathroom, she found Natasha removing pill bottles from the medicine cabinet above the sink and placing them in a neat row on the counter. There had to have been a dozen bottles, all for prescription medications.

"In Maria Stark's case, apparently everything. This is a pretty impressive collection. Valium, Lorazepam, Vicodin, Percoset, Ambien, Xanax. Also, a handful of mood stabilizers including Lithium, which are never good news." As Natasha removed still more pill bottles to add to the collection, she read the labels of each one she encountered out loud.

"Clozaril... I think that's an anti-psychotic. Tegretol... the pharmacist instructions identify it as an anti-convulsant." Natasha continued.

Pepper could only stare in shock as the pill bottles continued to crowd the counter-top. "Wait," she interrupted. "An anti-psychotic? Aren't those usually prescribed to people who are dangerous. I mean, they do contain the word 'psychotic' right in the description, so they must be serious, right?"

"They're most definitely serious," replied Natasha, "although they're not as dangerous as that word implies, necessarily. There are a variety of mental illnesses that might require a person to take them."

"Mental illnesses? Tony's mother was mentally ill?" Pepper asked, not sure if Natasha could answer, and not sure what it could mean.

"That's the most likely assumption to make based on the contents of this medicine cabinet," Natasha replied. "Although I can't speculate on the exact nature of the illness. Bruce might be able to give us a better idea based on the combination of medications, although the sheer number of painkillers tells me that these may not all be the direct result of one illness. Addiction to painkillers is also a possibility. Whichever way you look at it, Tony's mother was definitely not a healthy or mentally stable woman."

"Poor Tony," said Pepper. "And poor Maria." She shook her head, sadly. Suddenly, the walls felt like they were closing in and she couldn't stay in the room anymore. She felt guilty that they had pried, and wished she hadn't followed Natasha or encouraged her. Claustrophobia drove her from the room back out into the hallway, where she waited for Natasha to return the pills to the cabinet and join her.

However, before Natasha could exit, Pepper heard voices coming from the end of the hall. Loud voices, arguing. One of them was definitely Howard, but the other... Pepper knew she'd heard the other voice before, she just couldn't quite place it. She moved towards the voices, still feeling terrible for invading the Stark family's privacy, but still too curious to stop herself.

"Listen, I understand that the board can't wait, but I am working on important projects for the SSR right now that also can't wait, and those projects don't involve burning oil fields and sociopathic dictators, so the board can shove it!" Howard said.

"Howard, you know that I understand where you're coming from here. I always defend your SSR projects to the board because I know how important they are to you. But you need to focus. Things in the Gulf are heating up, and the board wants reassurance from you that our government contracts out there are your priority." The voice was smooth and persuasive, and unlike Howard, wasn't aggressive.

"Well, you can go back to them and tell them that those contracts are not my priority right now," Howard insisted.

"Which will open them up to wanting to know what your priorities actually are," the voice interrupted. "Which would mean either providing them with more details about some of these classified SSR projects that you're so fond of and discussing how we might monetize one or two of them, or opening yourself up to questions about your personal life that I'm certain you'd rather not answer right now. I know that these SSR projects are important to you, and I also know how much you want to protect Maria. I do too. I'm trying to work with you here, Howard, but you've got to give me something to work with."

Pepper was still trying to place the voice when she saw Tony emerge from a staircase at the other end of the hall and notice her, then quickly notice the voices arguing. He froze in his tracks, his expression immediately hard and pained and Pepper realized, based on that reaction, who the other voice was. As they both stood there, neither wanting to move, listening, staring at one another, Natasha exited the bedroom. Pepper noticed Tony's expression shift to one of hurt when he realized what the pair of women had been up to.

"What's going on?" Natasha whispered to Pepper, staring Tony down. "Who is Howard arguing with?"

"Obadiah Stane," said Pepper sadly, as Tony took a deep breath, turned on his heels and walked back up the staircase in the direction he came from.


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Fury gives Steve some things to think about, and Steve and Peggy finally have their date, decades later.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am very, very sorry about the fact that this chapter is so late. Honestly, I've just had a crazy amount of life-stuff happening lately - I'm running the programming for a sci-fi convention, which is a lot of work on top of my full-time job. On the off chance that any of you are in the Ontario, Canada area, come out and join me at GenreCon in Guelph from October 4-6th - there is much Marvel goodness and a couple of fanfiction panels I'm really excited to be a part of. 
> 
> Also, thought I should mention that I have a Tumblr. Come find me at http://enthusiasmgirl.tumblr.com or follow me on Twitter as @EnthusiasmGrrl :)
> 
> Self-promotion over.
> 
> Onwards to the next chapter, which was (in addition to me being busy) one of the hardest to write so far. I am really unsure about the whole Steve half of this story, and frustrated that I've kept him separated from the other Avengers for so long. Hopefully, that will be rectified going forward, and this story will pick up a bit - I feel like it's starting to drag. I hope you're enjoying it though, and if you love Steve/Peggy, you will love this chapter. :D

**SSR BASE, NYC - JULY 31, 1991 3:05PM**

Steve closed the door behind himself politely as he followed Fury into the man's office, startled when it slammed shut with a heavier thud then he had intended. He couldn't help but feel trapped. The office was smaller than he had envisioned, and had no windows, making it feel slightly claustrophobic. It was a far cry from the adaptable, open space that Steve was used to seeing the man dominate at the more modern SHIELD base and on the bridge of the helicarrier, and it unnerved him. It served as an unwelcome reminder that, once again, he had found himself in the right place at the wrong time.

In front of him, Fury seemed relaxed. Rather than sit behind the desk, he instead leaned on it casually, an irritating amusement twinkling in his one good eye as he stared at Steve, waiting for him to speak first. Steve chose to stand awkwardly at attention instead.

Finally, Fury sympathized and broke the silence."So, Captain? I take it you're ready to reconsider my request for your assistance?"

"Was it a request, Director? Or a set up? When you asked me to provide you with information that could help prevent pain and suffering, I reminded you that my very presence here could cause more of it. That hasn't changed." Steve replied, firmly. "The only thing that has changed is that I left your office and coincidentally Peggy Carter was just standing there in the hallway. Don't think I don't know what you're trying to do."

"Reunite two long-lost lovers?" Fury asked.

"Manipulate me." Steve replied. "You're not wrong, Nick. Our futures are intertwined. Which unfortunately means that I know you. All too well. And I don't trust you further than I could throw you."

"Well fortunately for me, the super-serum means that's actually pretty far, Captain." Fury said in response. "I know you, too. I've read all the files, and talked to the people who fought by your side. You always do the right thing. And I know that you know that helping the SSR is the right thing. I didn't bring Peggy Carter here to manipulate you. I just thought that maybe she'd help you see that. No matter how much you might worry about the future you came from, you're here now. Your future is uncertain no matter what you do."

Steve considered this for a moment. He remembered the heartbroken look on Peggy's face when she'd seen him, and the way she'd felt in his arms. He also remembered receiving the notice of her death only hours earlier, the finality of the typed words and the coldness in his heart as he read them. The future was more certain than Fury knew, but that only made Steve feel worse. "And if I cause a..." he struggled for the word he'd heard Stark and Banner using earlier. "... a paradox?" he asked finally. "If I cause the universe to explode by being here? Is that worth it?"

"Stark and your friends can talk all they want about paradoxes and the space-time continuum, but that's all abstract. They have no proof of what will happen. Nobody does. And you, Cap, well I don't think you're one for abstractions or hedging your bets. You go with what your gut tells you. You do what you feel is the right thing. That's who you are." Fury paused for a moment to let that sink in. "I'm not asking you to tell me every last detail of what the future will bring. I just want to know what's necessary to ensure the survival of this organization, and of this planet and the people on it. It can stay between you and I, nobody else needs to know. Think about it, Cap."

Before Steve could continue the conversation further, there was a sharp rapping at the door. Fury yelled for whoever was knocking to enter, and a nervous-looking SSR agent poked his head around the door. "Director?" he asked nervously.

"What is it, son?" Fury asked, kindly.

"You're needed in the briefing room. We've lost contact with our drill team at Fort Eureka, sir."

"You'll excuse me, Captain." Fury said.

"Of course." Steve said.

As Fury went out the door, he turned around and smiled slightly at Steve. "Talk to Angela at the front desk and she'll point you in the direction of a shower and arrange a change of clothes for you. If I hear anything from Stark or the others, I'll let you know. Enjoy your date, Cap." Steve looked down at himself, suddenly self-conscious, and remembered that he was still wearing his sweaty clothing from the gym, and had been this entire time. He blushed and went off to find reception. He had a date to get ready for.

 

* * *

 

**SSR BASE, NYC - JULY 31, 1991 4:55PM**

Steve waited awkwardly in the SSR hallway where he'd left Peggy only hours before. He was early, but hadn't had anything else to do once he'd gotten cleaned himself up and gotten ready. He was restless and nervous. He had tried to reach the other Avengers at Stark's mansion using a phone at the front desk, but they were busy and so he'd left a message with the person who answered letting them know not to expect him. He didn't trust the phones in the SSR anyway. He couldn't be certain that his calls weren't being listened to. He wouldn't have put it past Fury to do that.

As he stared at the ground and shuffled his feet absent-mindedly, he heard a slight cough. Looking up, he was presented with the sight of his date for the evening, staring at him with an amused look in her eyes.

"You're early." she said, smiling.

"Yeah, well, I figure I'd better be after the last time." he said, smiling back.

He looked Peggy over. His heart skipped a beat as he realized that she was wearing a red dress. Not the same red dress he'd seen her in once upon a time. It was long-sleeved and fell to her ankles. She wasn't as curvy as she once had been, and didn't have the same figure to show off, but it was still flattering. Her white hair was long and loose around her neck, and she wasn't wearing very much make-up. Steve took in all the details carefully, wanting to remember them, wanting to burn them into his memory forever so that he could sketch her later.

Things were awkward for a moment, before she reached out and took his hand, and turned to head out the door, pulling him along with her into the summer evening. Steve felt a warmth crawling up his arm and into his heart as she continued to hold his hand and they began to walk down the street. "I made us a reservation. The restaurant is just around the corner. Anucci's. Do you remember it? It's where we toasted Dr. Erskine's memory the night of Project Rebirth. You, Howard, and I. Where you and Howard first properly met. I remember you telling me that the Spaghetti Bolognese was the best thing you'd ever eaten. Howard joked that it proved that your taste buds must not have been enhanced by the serum. You ate three plates, at Howard's insistence, and we teased you about it. You got mad that he paid the entire bill."

Steve's eyes widened and his heart grew as he heard Peggy describe that night. "Of course I remember that night. It was my first night out and my first proper meal following the serum. It was incredible. Everything was different - my energy level and all my senses, the way I felt about myself, the way people looked at me. The way you looked at me. I remember thinking that that was the first night of the rest of my life, and how happy I was to be spending it in such good company. And how sad I was that Dr. Erskine wasn't around to see it." He paused for a moment, lost in his thoughts. He hadn't realized how little he thought about those days since arriving in the future. He supposed it had just hurt too much. It still did, but at least he was able to share it with someone who understood.

"It wasn't that long ago for me," he continued. "Just a few years. I'm surprised you remember though. And so clearly. So many more memorable things must have happened to you since then."

Peggy looked up at him with sadness in her eyes. "No," she said. "Nothing has. Those days were pretty unforgettable."

They continued to walk along, the awkwardness having been replaced by a more comfortable silence, until they reached the restaurant. Steve was surprised to find that the restaurant itself handn't changed all that much. It still had the same wood-paneled walls and elegant decor as 50 years earlier.

"I thought coming here might be a good idea. It hasn't really changed. I can't imagine what you're going through right now. Everything must seem so strange," Peggy said, once the server had seated them at their booth.

Steve felt a pang of guilt as he realized that Peggy thought he was new to this decade, having just been unfrozen recently. Lying was never something he was comfortable with, no matter what the circumstances, but he wasn't sure he could bear to tell her the truth, even if he wanted to.

"It's not as strange as you might think. The 1990's don't seem all that different to me," he said.

"Not that different?" Peggy asked. "Where have you gotten that impression from? Have you had much of a chance to explore the world, Steve? Or has Fury been keeping you cooped up on that base? There are so many differences. We have computers. Those are complicated machines designed to do calculations and store data. And television! Oh my goodness, I suppose you've never seen one before..."

Steve cut her off before she could continue. "I have, actually. There was one at the World's Fair in 1942. They showed part of a baseball game, and everyone gathered around to watch. It was pretty remarkable then, and from what I've seen now it's even better. I mean, back then we could never have imagined that there'd be televisions in the home as large as the screens in a movie theatre, and in full color too!"

"Well they're not nearly as large as a movie theatre, Steve. But I can imagine that they must seem quite large to you." Peggy said, and Steve mentally kicked himself. He needed to change the subject. He wasn't sure which 21st century innovations did and didn't exist in this era. And anyway, it wasn't what he was interested in talking about.

"Peggy," Steve said. "I don't really want to talk about anything that's changed from then to now except you. How have you changed, Peggy? What have you been doing with yourself all these years?"

Steve had read Peggy's file, which SHIELD had provided to him when he'd first been unfrozen. It said she'd never married or had children. But much of the file had been blacked out and classified. And Steve, despite what the others thought, had never had the courage to contact her. He'd always thought he'd have time and had lost his nerve at the last minute. He was a coward. And then he'd received the notice of her death, surprised to find that she'd included him in her will.

He'd run out of time. But now, he had somehow gotten that time back. And he intended to make the most of it.

So he listened, while Peggy told him the story of her life since that fateful day when he had taken the Valkyrie down. She told him about the end of the war. And about her friendship with Howard and her work for the SSR. Steve laughed as she described Howard's courtship of Maria and wedding day. He asked about Tony, and was overjoyed to hear her tell a particularly funny story about a young Tony wearing a bedsheet as a cape and pretending to be him. She told him about her continued participation in the many expeditions to the Arctic to try to find him. She told him about her family - her brothers and their children, her nieces and nephews, whom she loved dearly. But none of the stories, Steve noted, were of love affairs or men. All those years, and it seemed as though Peggy had always been lonely. She had always been waiting for Steve, never willing to believe that he was dead. It broke Steve's heart, and filled him with regret. Regret that he'd had to take the Valkyrie down. Regret that he had never spoken to her once he'd been unfrozen in the 21st century. But mostly, regret that he hadn't been unfrozen properly in this era and would have to leave her again.

By the time dessert came, Peggy was looking up at him with a sad smile, her eyes brimming with tears. "Enough about me. What will you do now?" she asked. "You're still young. You have so many years ahead of you. And the war's been over for so long..."

"Peggy..." Steve said slowly, having reached his breaking point. He couldn't lie to her, consequences be damned. "I haven't told you the entire truth about how I got here, about the things that have happened to me since the last time I heard your voice." He wasn't sure if he could keep going, but he knew he had to.

"What do you mean?" asked Peggy. "I don't understand..."

"I wasn't unfrozen recently. Or even at all, really, in this time period. I was unfrozen in the year 2012, years ago according to my own experiences, and Howard's work with the Tesseract brought me here. I'm from the future. By way of the past. It's all sort of... complicated." Steve tried to explain.

"2012? You're still in the ice, then, right now?" Peggy asked, trying to comprehend what she was hearing. It was easier for her than it would be for anyone else. She had experienced a great deal of strangeness over the years working for the SSR.

Steve nodded, sadly. "And I can't stay. Other people were pulled here from the future with me. And us being here could be disastrous. We have to go home."

"Home?" Peggy asked. "You have a home in the future, then? You've made a life for yourself?"

"Sort of. I have friends and people who rely on me, and the world still needs Captain America." Steve said, not sure if what he had was enough anymore.

"Tell me about them." Peggy asked.

"I can't-" Steve said, insistently.

"I won't tell a soul, Steve. I promise. I won't ask about my own future either, or anything you think will cause me to act differently. I just want to know that you're alive and healthy and happy, after all these years of hoping." Peggy said.

Steve looked at her, and saw how much it would mean to her in her eyes, and couldn't help himself. He let everything out. He told her about waking up in the SHIELD hospital room, and how he ran because he didn't know what else to do. He told her about the technology and strange etiquette of the 21st century, and how frustrated he was to not be able to understand even simple conversations. He told her about The Avengers, and SHIELD, and about the strangeness of being a historical icon and a superhero. He told her about how he still woke up some nights crying, seeing Bucky's face as he fell from his grip, or destruction, or the bodies of fallen soldiers, and how the doctors told him he had PTSD but he just felt pathetic. He told her everything, and held back nothing. And it felt wonderful. She understood him in ways that nobody in the 21st century ever had, and he could be honest with her without worrying about judgment or pity. And she listened patiently, holding his hands in hers across the table.

Finally, the waiter politely let them know that the restaurant was closing soon, and they paid the bill and stepped out into the crisp summer night. Once on the sidewalk, they stood together, nervous and unsure what to do next.

"Where are you staying?" Peggy asked.

"I hadn't really thought about it. My friends are staying with Howard at his mansion, so there I suppose. I don't really know where it is though..." Steve replied.

Peggy laughed softly. "Let's walk back to the SSR then. I'm sure I can arrange for a driver to take you there." They began walking, arm in arm.

"What about you?" asked Steve.

"Oh, I have a place not that far from here. I'm technically retired, but I'm not really one to sit still. I like to be close to the base in case they need me." Peggy said.

They walked in comfortable silence, enjoying each others company until they finally arrived back at the factory. Peggy asked him to wait while she went and arranged a car for him.

While she was gone, Steve had a moment to let the night sink in and contemplate the situation. He loved Peggy. He knew that now more than ever. Seeing her again had been like a revelation to him. He had been so terrified when he'd first arrived in the 21st century that too many years had passed. His fear of seeing her again and realizing that she'd moved on and become a different person, and that he could never recapture what he had with her, had prevented him from getting any closure before she was gone. But now he knew those fears had been unfounded. She was still the same Peggy - strong, determined, kind and fearless. And she still loved him. He knew that now. She'd spent her entire life waiting for him, and he'd let her down. He knew he could never do that again. He was done being a coward.

His certainty about her, however, made him even more uncertain about what the right thing to do was. And either way, he knew he'd eventually have to leave her again, and he wasn't sure if he was strong enough for that.

His thoughts were interrupted by her return, followed by a car pulling up ready to take him back to the rest of the Avengers. Before he got in, though, he needed to let her know how he felt.

"Peggy..." he said.

"Steve, don't." Peggy said. "Please..." she begged him. She knew what he was going to say.

So he didn't say it. He just looked her in the eyes, swept her off her feet and kissed her, the way she deserved to be kissed. Soon, she was kissing him back and it was so, so much better than their kiss on the airstrip, and held so much more promise than that kiss had. Finally, they came up for air, and Steve grinned into her neck. "I'll see you again soon," he said. "Good night, Peggy."

She cried softly, and said "Good night, Steve" back. And it was all Steve could do to pull himself away and get into the car. As it pulled away, he leaned back and sighed. He had no idea what he was going to do. He hoped the other Avengers were less confused than he was.


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Howard and Steve reconnect, and Pepper finds out the truth about Maria and Tony's issues.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry that this chapter took so long! I originally had said one a week, however this past month has been crazy. Thank you to everybody for being so patient.
> 
> So, this is the chapter where we finally learn a little bit more about Maria and Tony's issues with her. Poor Tony. :(
> 
> Again, it's a bit of a talky chapter - more action to come soon! Enjoy! I hope this chapter was worth the wait!

**STARK MANSION - JULY 31, 1991 10:15PM**  
  
Howard stared at a spot on the wall behind Obadiah, trying to calm himself and think rationally about how to handle the situation he found himself in. He knew that he couldn't ignore Stark Industries defense contracts or the things going on in the Middle East for much longer. He had already distracted himself from his work and family issues with his SSR projects too much over the past year, trying to escape thinking about the situation in the Gulf that had only recently resolved itself and that his company had been so heavily involved in. However, he also knew that Obadiah wasn't one to let things go. He needed to give the man something to take back to the board of directors.

"Fine," he finally said, resignation in his voice. "Tell the board that I've got a few projects I've been saving for a rainy day which should make the Pentagon very happy that could help put out the few remaining fires going on in the Gulf and assist with stabilizing the region. I can have them ready to present by next week. Let our contacts at the State Department know, set up the time and date and I'll be there to give them one hell of a show. Now, will you leave me the hell alone and let me enjoy the rest my evening?"

Obadiah grinned at him, all teeth. Howard was reminded of a shark eyeing a school of fish, and couldn't help but be glad the man was on his side.

"That's what I wanted to hear," he said, clapping Howard on the back and heading towards the door. "The board will be very happy to hear that you've got a few tricks up your sleeve, Howard. I know I am."

"Glad to hear it," said Howard, insincerely.

As Obadiah exited, Howard found that there was something else he had to ask. "Hey Obie," he said, "You haven't talked to Tony lately, have you? How's the kid doing?"

Obadiah turned back around and shot Howard a sympathetic look which made Howard's heart ache slightly. "Don't worry, Howard," he said, "I'm not letting him get into too much trouble." And with that, the man was gone.

Howard watched as Obadiah's car pulled away and another car pulled up. Curious, he stepped outside to see who it could be and his mood lifted when Steve Rogers exited the car, looking around with wide eyes at the palatial estate. Their eyes caught each other, and Howard grinned at his old friend. "Impressive, no? It sure beats the hell outta an army tent, right? Although, I suppose you'll have to tell me if it competes with what you've got in the 21st century. Come on in, I'll give you the grand tour of the place." Howard happily went back to distracting himself. Everything else could wait.

* * *

 

**STARK MANSION - JULY 31, 1991 - 10:30PM**

Pepper walked slowly through the maze of flowers and hedges that made up the gardens on the estate, breathing deeply and enjoying the mix of smells, looking for Tony. After being caught leaving his mother's bedroom and overhearing Howard's conversation with Obadiah, Natasha had given Pepper space to seek the man out and gone to find Bruce. Pepper had wandered the halls aimlessly for a while before a housekeeper had kindly told her that she'd seen Tony head outside for some air. As Pepper walked, she was thankful for the change of scenery and the crispness of the evening. Hearing the voice of the man whom she had presumed dead and who had betrayed both her and Tony had rattled her. She could only imagine what Tony was feeling. She also knew he'd never let on that anything was wrong. As far as Obie was concerned, he had died and Tony had moved on and that was it. Tony had never acknowledged otherwise.

Finally, she spotted a figure lying on the edge of a fountain, arm draped across his head, staring up at the sky looking lost. He didn't acknowledge her, but she knew that he had to have heard her approaching. Her heels clicked sharply as she walked along the cobblestone path towards him.

She sat down on the fountain's edge near his feet, and watched the water pour out of the fountain's statue, a mermaid. She dipped her fingers into the cool water and stared at the stars reflected back at her. Finally, Tony spoke.

"This was her favourite fountain," he said. "It was the only one that she actually picked out and had installed. The rest were all either put in by my grandparents when they built the place or picked out by the landscape designer they hired to spruce the garden up when I was a kid. My dad could tell you the history of each of these damned things. He may have earlier, actually, I wasn't really listening. But she picked this one out because it reminded her of the Hans Christian Anderson story, The Little Mermaid. Not the Disney version, the dark original one. She read it to me, once, out here. I barely remember."

Pepper didn't want to interrupt him. He never talked about his mother, and this was unexpected. So she listened.

"She had it installed in one of her better periods. She also redid the greenhouse, had the hallways and dining room wallpapered, and fired most of the staff, then personally interviewed and hired new staff. Not that it mattered. None of it made her happy. Within a few months of that, she wouldn't get out of bed again."

"She was ill?" Pepper asked. "Natasha and I... we noticed that she was taking a lot of medication..."

"Bipolar Disorder. Manic depression. My old man told me once that it was what made her so exciting when he first met her. She was a lot of fun, as in a crazy amount of fun, apparently. Vibrant, and eccentric, and beautiful. You can see it in some of the pictures of the two of them, back then. Of course, I never really saw any of that. She got really depressed after I was born. The doctors put her on all kinds of medications - you name it, she was on it. She just slept most of the time. Hid away in her room with the door locked. She drank a lot, and cried a lot. She probably never realized I knew that, but I could hear her. If I talked to her, she'd snap at me, at everyone. She was just miserable. I don't know how Howard dealt with it all those years."

Tony went silent for a moment. It was a strangely comfortable silence, and Pepper wasn't sure if he was going to continue, or if he was completely lost in his thoughts.

"Every once in a while," he finally continued, "she'd have these brief periods where she'd seem to snap out of it. It was like..." Tony sighed softly, and tried to find the words. "It was like the first signs of spring, when all of a sudden you see the buds and new leaves on the trees and the green grass poking through the mud. She came alive. She'd suddenly want to be engaged in my life, want to play with me and talk to me, and make up for lost time with me. She'd do things with me and pay attention to me. And then, it would get scary. She'd try too hard, want to do too much. Let me do crazy things, push me too hard, tell me strange things that made no sense. Usually, she'd end up in the hospital, because she'd either hurt herself or someone else. And when she came home, it would be over, and she'd be gone again, dead inside."

Pepper sniffed, and wiped away the tears from her cheeks. "I'm sorry, Tony. I didn't mean to pry, really..."

"No, it's alright, Pep. After all the crazy shit I've done over the years, all the things that you've put up with from me... You had a right to know."

Pepper let that sink in for a moment, and realized what Tony was trying to tell her. "You're not her, Tony," she said.

"No? How do you know? A lot of mental illnesses are hereditary, you know. I couldn't tell you what's going on in my brain most of the time, I really couldn't. And if you try to tell me that I'm in any way a stable human being, Pepper, I'll never trust a word you say to me again, I swear. Normal people don't cope with things the way I cope with things. You think I don't know that? I do. I drink, I do drugs, I am seriously lucky that I've dodged any of the serious sexually transmitted diseases in my life so far. Normal people don't build robots to remind them to eat and sleep properly. Normal people don't have panic attacks that feel like their heart is going to explode out of their chests like an alien chestburster and skitter away from them. Normal people can be handed things, Pepper. I have issues!"

"Yes, you do," Pepper said, "But I know that you won't let those issues get the better of you, Tony."

"No, you're right," interrupted Tony, "I won't, not like she did. Because I refuse to. And that's almost worse. I probably should be on some sort of medication. I operate a powerful and deadly weapon on a regular basis. I have responsibilities to my company, my employees, to you, and to the Avengers that require my focus and attention, and my stability. But I won't deal with my issues, not the way I know I should. I will let myself get out of control, and I will probably get myself or someone else killed making irresponsible and impulsive decisions because the alternative to me is being her. Being cold and absent and losing everything that makes me who I am, and I can't do that, Pep. I just can't. And it's unfair to you. I don't know what you're even doing here, to be honest."

It startled Pepper to hear him admit so much. He was right. As much as he'd always tried to handle his issues, he'd never addressed them directly. If he drank too much, he'd brush it off and be better for a while, but the idea of alcoholism was never brought up. If he told a terrorist their address and almost died because of it, he'd destroy his suits for a few months before picking up right where he'd left off. He never changed, not really. The clarity of things suddenly startled her. She chuckled to herself. "I don't know either, Tony. I really don't."

They went back to comfortable silence for a few minutes, both deep in thought. Tony interrupted the silence with a sigh. "I hate this place. So much. And I miss Jarvis." Pepper just reached over and stroked his legs, attempting to comfort him while they enjoyed the evening breeze and the noise of the rushing water.

* * *

 

**STARK MANSION - JULY 31, 1991 10:45PM**

Once Steve had seen the mansion (which he was suitably impressed with), Howard directed him to the study, promising to show him something important. Once in the room, Howard excused himself for a moment and pulled on the wall sconce opening the entrance to the workshop. Steve's eyes widened. "Wait here," Howard directed. "I'm just gonna check on the boys and grab something."

Steve waited patiently for Howard to return, hearing rustling and swearing coming from the workshop. Finally, Howard emerged, dragging a large trunk behind him. A trunk that looked vaguely familiar to Steve.

"Looks like your friends have already gone to bed. I was hoping that we could work through the night, but I can't blame them if they're exhausted. I have no idea what effects travel through a temporal portal might have on the human body. Or what time it was when you actually left where you were, now that I'm thinking about it." He pulled shut the workshop door and threw himself into a leather armchair.

"It was early, 7am or so," said Steve. "Howard, is that a trunk from the war?" He gestured at the object. He could see the worn SSR logo and stickers peeling off showing destinations not just in Europe, but across the U.S.

"It's not just a trunk, Steve, it's your trunk," Howard said. "I hung onto it for you. Now, maybe you've already picked it up in another 20 years or so, but I figured I'd haul it out for you now seeing as how I hung onto it for you all these years. I have been waiting a long time to experience the pleasure of giving it back to you after all."

Steve's mouth dropped open, and his heart skipped a beat as he examined the trunk more closely. He noticed the tag, faded after so long, with the vague imprint of his signature on it. He realized that the destinations reflected on the stickers matched places he'd traveled, both with the USO show and during the war. It was, in fact, his trunk.

He'd asked Fury about his few possessions when he'd arrived in 2012, and the man had told him that unfortunately most of them were lost, and those that weren't had been sold to private collectors and museums interested in his life over the years. This had upset Steve. He'd even written several polite letters to some of the known collectors requesting that his things be returned, but had unfortunately been rebuffed by them. Apparently, his return from the dead actually made the items worth more. The museums were reluctant to return anything to him that was of, according to them, "important value to historians".

He had resigned himself to never seeing any of his possessions again, and now he was staring at his old army trunk which looked exactly as he had left it. The lock was even still on it, untouched.

"You never opened it?" Steve asked, surprised.

"Nope," said Howard. "When they declared you MIA I knew that there wasn't anybody else who would claim your things, not with Sgt. Barnes gone. So I made sure I grabbed it for you, just in case. I'm glad I did. Who knows where it would have ended up if I hadn't."

"I can take a guess," Steve said. He stared at it, and his eyes started to water. "Thank you, Howard."

"Not a problem," Howard replied.

He moved towards it, but realized something and chuckled softly. "I don't exactly have the key anymore."

Howard rifled through a desk drawer and unexpectedly produced a pair of bolt cutters with a shrug.

Once Steve had broken the lock, he lifted the lid and breathed the dust and smell that emerged deeply. It was like a time machine, transporting him back to a time long since past. There, sitting just as he had left it on the day he had gotten on the Valkyrie, was a photo in a frame placed gently on top of a stack of uniforms. The photo stared up at Steve, haunting him like a ghost. It was of a skinny, sickly looking eight year old boy and a woman with dark hair and a gentle smile - his mother. The only photo he had ever had of her, and one that he hadn't seen in years. He sniffed and wiped away his tears.

"I take it you never got my gift when you were unfrozen then?" Howard asked. Steve shook his head no in reply.

"What's it like, the future? I mean, I know you can't tell me any of the good stuff, but you must be able to at least give me something vague. Did I ever perfect that damned flying car?"

Steve chuckled, and closed the lid on the trunk, leaving a full examination of its contents for another time. He settled himself into the chair opposite Howard. "Nope. At least not that I've seen."

Howard smiled at him. "Have you met my kid, Tony? He'd be about 40 by then. Jesus, that's a thought! I can't even picture it. How's he doing? Does he turn out alright?"

Steve looked up at Howard and saw the concern in the man's eyes. He knew he shouldn't say too much, but he also knew he couldn't keep everything from his friend. "Better than alright, Howard. He's a genius. One of the best men I know. The inventions and technology he's been able to come up with are even more impressive than yours."

A look of pride came over Howard that made Steve smile. "Changing the world, huh? I knew the kid had it in him."

The two sat in a friendly silence for a moment before Howard laughed to himself. "So, Peggy called me earlier today. Said she'd run into you. Boy, did you she ever chew me out for not telling her you were here! I hope you didn't throw me under the bus on that one..."

The pair relaxed back into their friendship with an ease that surprised Steve, and he found himself telling Howard all about his big date. They talked well into the night, reminiscing about the war and reconnecting as old friends do, until they realized that the sun was coming up and that they should probably get some sleep.


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Tony and Pepper are awkward, and the Red Skull has a plan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize (enormously) for the long, long wait between chapters. Life got in the way, and so did writers block, but I'm very proud of myself for forcing myself to finally sit back down and continue with this fic. Thanks to everyone for their support and comments - you guys are the reason I'm keeping this going!
> 
> Enjoy this next chapter! And expect the chapters to be more regularly scheduled going forward.

**STARK MANSION - AUGUST 1, 1991 - 8:35AM**

Tony smiled to himself as he slowly woke up, feeling the warmth of Pepper beside him. Without thinking, he clutched her tighter and entwined their bare legs together in an attempt to get closer to her, burying his nose in her hair and taking a deep breath of her familiar apple-scented shampoo. It took him a few moments of being awake to finally realize that something was wrong - Pepper shouldn't be in his bed anymore. The memories returned as his sleep-addled brain began piecing itself back together. The blue glow of the Tesseract and the familiar taste of coconut. Working with his father in the workshop in the mansion. Seeing his father with Obadiah. Being comforted by Pepper while lying on his mother's favourite fountain. Then, that comfort taking a different turn and he and Pepper stumbling into one of the guest bedrooms, wrapped in each others arms. Him, crying softly as they made love and she repeated his name like a prayer. Not his finest moment.

Slowly and regretfully, he extricated himself from her arms and sat up, reaching for his boxers on the floor and beginning to get dressed. This wasn't him - he normally wasn't this emotional, this fragile. He had survived three months in a cave with a car battery shoved inside his chest, for Christ's sake! And here he was, falling apart in front of Pepper more than once yesterday over what? Seeing his old man? Thinking about his mother? It made him feel raw and exposed. He pulled on his shirt, then took a few deep breaths, feeling his heart hammering inside his chest and waiting for the panic to subside.

Where the hell was his armour when he needed it? What he wouldn't give to hear the familiar sound of his faceplate slamming shut, see the comforting lights of the HUD and feel the rush of soaring through the sky for a while. Here, in 1991, he had nowhere to hide or get away. He needed to get home, desperately.

Once he'd calmed himself down enough, he got up to leave quietly, not wanting to wake Pepper. He knew last night had been a mistake, and didn't really want to have to get into it with her. There was a reason they didn't work out, and he was a mess. Nothing had changed. However, he couldn't help but run his hand tenderly through her hair one last time before he left, and wish things could be different.

As he quietly shut the door behind him and headed down the hallway in the direction of the dining room, he could hear a murmur of voices in conversation. The other Avengers were already awake and having a heated discussion at one end of the long table. They appeared to have been served breakfast already. His father was nowhere to be seen, and the staff appeared to be keeping their distance from the group of strangers.

"You all look way too animated for this early in the morning. Especially when I haven't had my coffee yet." He whistled softly and snapped his fingers in the direction of the dining room entrance without even thinking about it, the gesture coming naturally to him even after years being waited on only by his robots and JARVIS. To the amusement of Bruce and Natasha and the displeasure of Steve, a nearby housekeeper immediately appeared at his side looking eager to please.

"Sweetheart," he said, condescending in a way only he could get away with, "can I get a triple espresso please, yesterday?" The woman just stared at him blankly. It took Tony a moment to remember what year it was and correct himself. "You know what, I changed my mind. Make it a coffee. Two milk, four sugars."

Steve made a face at the instructions, presumably disgusted by the amount of sugar. He hadn't even been up for ten minutes yet, and already he'd gotten two disappointed glares from the man. It wasn't anywhere near his record, but he'd take it. "Good morning to you too, Spangles. You got in late last night. Hot date?"

"Yes, actually," said Steve, enjoying the look of surprise on Tony's face at the response. "Not that it's any of your business."

"Right," said Tony. "I learned my lesson last time Cap, no worries. I don't want to know. Now, the three of you looked caught up in a pretty intense conversation when I came in. What's up? Anything I need to know?"

"We got some news from Fury an hour ago," Natasha said. "Howard woke Steve up with it. Apparently, they've lost contact with a team out in the Arctic. A team who were looking for the wreck of the Valkyrie."

"So what?" said Tony. "It's a coincidence. It's not like drilling in the Arctic ice isn't dangerous work. Anything could have happened to them. What does that have to do with us?"

It was Bruce who continued. "In one of the last messages from the team, they described seeing a blue light flashing in the skies that was unusual. That message was sent right around the time that we arrived here."

"The Tesseract?" Tony asked.

"Possibly," said Steve. "Nick has asked me to assist the SSR any way that I can. I was with the Red Skull when the Tesseract was activated and he vanished, and I have better information than anyone related to where that plane was when I crashed it and what they may have found. I'd like Natasha to accompany me, since she's not needed here. You and Bruce can continue to work with Howard."

"What's wrong Cap? Not able to handle Fury on your own?" asked Tony.

"No, actually," Steve replied. "After yesterday, I'd feel more comfortable with Natasha backing me up." He left it at that, and Tony knew better than to ask any more questions.

"Works for me," he said, and they all went silent for a moment as the housekeeper returned with Tony's coffee, as well as a full breakfast.

"Nice!" said Tony, digging in to eat. "You're good, I'm gonna tell your boss to give you a raise, Hazel," he complimented, reading her nametag. Hazel just blushed before leaving the room. "What?" asked Tony noticing the amused stares coming from the others.

"It's just nice to see that you're nicer to your help when it's human," Bruce said. Tony pictured Dummy in his dunce cap and admitted to himself that they were right. When he got back, he was gonna give his robots each a big hug.

 

* * *

 

**STARK MANSION - AUGUST 1, 1991 - 8:50AM**

Pepper supposed she should have known better than to expect Tony to be there when she woke up. But unfortunately she couldn't help but feel hurt that he had left without saying anything. She knew that last night had been a mistake. However, it was a mistake she refused to regret. She loved Tony, and he had been so vulnerable. He needed her, whether he wanted to admit it to himself or not. And she loved him, in spite of all of his issues. Why did things have to be so complicated?

She put her clothes on slowly, took a moment to pull herself together in the attached bathroom, and slipped quietly out into the hallway. Unfortunately, she hadn't been paying enough attention on the tour the night before and the mansion was enormous. She quickly took a wrong turn down a hallway and found herself hopelessly lost. Finally, she overheard a voice coming from a room nearby. As she approached it, she realized that it was Howard's study and he was speaking to the housekeeper who had served her and Natasha their dinner. She stilled near the door, not wanting to interrupt them if they were in the middle of something.

"Is that all the messages, Helen?" she heard Howard ask.

"No, sir," said Helen. "There was one more that came in this morning, at 6:30am. It was from the Eatonville Wellness Centre. It was Mrs. Stark, sir."

"Oh?" asked Howard. "And what did she want?"

"Thomas answered. She told him to tell you that she needs you to send someone with new books. She's read all of the ones she went in with, and she's apparently dreadfully bored."

"Well," said Howard. "would you pick out a new stack for her then, Helen. You know the sort of things she likes to read - check the third floor library. Have Thomas take them around to her later today, along with the clothes she sent to be laundered."

"Of course, sir," said Helen. There was a pause before Helen found the courage to continue. "Thomas said that she sounded better, sir. She didn't call you any names this time, or make any threats. She even asked about Anthony, although she seemed to have forgotten he wasn't living here anymore. He said she was in a very good mood when he spoke to her."

"Well, I'm glad to hear it. Thank you, Helen," Howard said tersely.

Pepper was just about to give up and go back to searching the mansion for the others alone - she felt terrible for having overheard something so obviously private - when Helen exited the study and nearly bumped into her.

"Oh," said Helen, "what are you doing here, ma'am?"

"I was just looking for my friends. Sorry, this place is just so big!"

Helen looked at her skeptically for a moment, before smiling and offering to assist her with finding everyone else.

When she reached the dining room, she found Tony just finishing up his breakfast while the other Avengers made plans.

"- arrange a car to pick us up. It should be here within an hour. Did the two of you make any progress with Howard yesterday?" she heard Steve ask as she entered the room. She caught Tony's eye but he quickly looked away, obviously ashamed.

"Some," said Bruce, "but we're still no closer to figuring out a way to get us home safely. Although we've collected some pretty amazing data on the Tesseract. It's remarkable - I'm hoping that we can make better progress today. Tony?"

Tony looked up from his food, which he had been staring at a bit too intently since Pepper had entered the room. Natasha noticed and filed that information away for later. "Huh? Oh yeah, Howard's theories are interesting, if completely and totally flawed in every way possible. But, don't worry. I'm here, so I can fix it. Hopefully we'll have a plan to get us home soon."

"Pepper," Natasha asked. "Did you sleep well last night?"

"Fine, thank you." Pepper wondered how much Natasha knew about what had happened after they had parted ways. The woman was very observant.

"Steve and I are being picked up and taken to the SSR headquarters soon. There's been an issue with one of their Arctic drill teams that they'd like our assistance with. It could relate to why we're here." Natasha explained.

"Oh?" asked Pepper. "So it'll be just me all alone in the mansion while the boys work, then? That could be interesting, I suppose." She tried to sound more enthusiastic about that idea than she was. The staff weren't exactly the friendliest group of people she'd ever met, and she'd only been in the mansion for one day and already felt lonely.

"Or you could come with us?" Natasha asked.

In that moment, Pepper looked over to Tony and saw how desperately he was trying to avoid looking at her or talking to her. He clearly wasn't able to handle the fact that they'd spent the night together. She remembered how upset he had sounded the night before when the topic of his mother came up, what he had said about being so much like her. She thought about Helen telling Howard that Maria hadn't called him any names when she called and felt a sadness in the pit of her stomach at the thought of it. And she made a decision. She needed to see this woman for herself. She needed to understand her and, through her, Tony.

"You know what, Natasha, I think I would like that. I'm obviously not really needed by anyone around here." Her stare burned a hole in the back of Tony's head that she swore, to her satisfaction, he could feel. Natasha would understand when Pepper told her. She wasn't going to the SSR with them. She needed answers.

 

* * *

 

**ARCTIC CIRCLE - AUGUST 1, 1991 - 9:00AM**

Karlsonn awoke slowly, feeling something slimy and disgusting make its way down his face. One of those creatures had drooled on him, or at least he hoped it was drool. It stared down at him from above, its eyes black without pupils, boring into him. As he stared from his prone position on the cot, another figure came into view. Karlsonn couldn't help but try to turn away and curl into the fetal position, but was prevented from doing so both by the manacles around his wrists and legs and by the hand that reached out to grip his chin painfully, keeping his eyes focused on the horrors above him. Karlsonn had no choice but to stare up into the maniacal face of the Red Skull in terror.

"Wh...wh...what do you want? Please..." Karlsonn muttered. He had been herded into the small base previously used by the rest of the team and thrown onto the cot, left there under the supervision of the creatures while their kin retrieved the wreckage from its icy grave. He could hear them, all night, howling and panting with their efforts. He could hear the creaking and moaning of the howling winds and the old metal being hauled up from below. He was going mad. He could feel it.

"What is your name?" asked the Red Skull. Karlsonn was too scared to answer. All speech or words had left him. When he didn't respond, he was backhanded across the face. "Your name!"

"K...Karlsonn, sir," he finally said.

"You will call me Master, Karlsonn. Because that is what I am. You belong to me now, and you will help me. Do you understand?" the Red Skull asked, too calm after such powerful anger. It was unnerving.

"Y...yes," said Karlsonn, "Master," he added. He didn't want to die. Not like this.

"You are a doctor?" asked the Red Skull.

"Yes, Master," said Karlsonn, answering automatically.

"What do you know of Steven Rogers, Karlsonn? What do you know of the Super Soldier Serum?"

"Everything," Karlsonn said, honestly. He knew that he should be rebelling, should be refusing to tell the Red Skull anything, but he was so scared. And he was willing to be a coward, if it meant getting away from the hideous creatures and being allowed to keep his sanity. "I studied the serum extensively. And Rogers - his physiology, what the serum did to him. That's why I was sent here. To be on hand in case we found him and was alive and needed medical attention. Or in case an autopsy needed to be performed."

"GET UP!" the Red Skull screamed at him, and the creature - two creatures - were suddenly pulling him to his feet, unholy moans coming from them as they moved, shuffling him forward and out the door of the small structure.

Once out in the snow, Karlsonn saw that the Valkyrie had been removed from the ice in its entirety. Pieces of it had been blown off, and things from its interior had been removed. Karlsonn could see, laying out in the open with the strange blue flashes from the night sky glaring off of it unnaturally, a large block of ice, frozen solid. Inside, obscured, Karlsonn could just make out the familiar red, white and blue of Captain America's infamous shield.

"Well, it would appear that you are just the man I need then, Doctor," said the Red Skull. "Don't worry though - we won't be performing an autopsy. I have other plans."


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Natasha provides her perspective on things and assists Pepper, Steve has no clue what he's going to do about Peggy, and Clint has no clue about anything.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so I'm still moving along with this story, it's just getting trickier as it gets longer. That's what I get for creating a WIP and posting as I go, I guess.
> 
> 15 chapters in, and my initial reason for writing this story (a take on Tony's relationship with JARVIS) hasn't even started yet! Woohoo! This is going to be much, much longer than I anticipated but I'm having so much fun I really don't care.
> 
> Comments inspire me and help me keep going. I accept any and all criticism - it helps me become a better writer - so please comment if you have thoughts or feedback!

**STARK MANSION - AUGUST 1, 1991 9:30AM**

Pepper picked at her cold eggs sullenly, lost in thought as she contemplated what she knew she needed to do. She'd made up her mind to visit Maria, to try and understand this woman whose illness and absence had so dominated Tony's childhood. She now knew that the woman was staying at the Eatonville Wellness Centre, which was just a quick glance at the Yellow Pages away. However, she had no idea how she would get there or get into see her. She was certain that the woman would be under heavy security at the facility. She also still had mixed feelings about intruding into the privacy of Tony and his family.

She had hoped that Tony would open up to her about his past, and he had shown some willingness to do that the night before, but after their night together he'd immediately closed off again. She wasn't a fool. She knew that he had seduced her and taken her to bed as a way of distracting both himself and her from the painful memories and vulnerability that being in Stark Mansion had dredged up for him. Tony always used sex as a way of getting out of things he didn't want to deal with. He'd been that way as long as Pepper had known him. She'd just hoped that she could change him, and maybe that was part of their problem.

Pepper's sad train of thought was interrupted by the sound of a throat being cleared from across the table. She looked up from her eggs and realized that Natasha was now the only one remaining in the room as she finished her breakfast, and was staring at her intently. She hadn't noticed, as she'd stopped paying attention to what was going on at the table once Tony and Bruce had politely excused themselves to go and assist Howard in the workshop.

"So," said Natasha, continuing to stare.

"So," said Pepper, uncomfortable under the scrutiny.

"You spent the night with Tony last night," Natasha finally said, abruptly.

Pepper blushed. Of course Natasha knew what had happened. The woman always seemed to know everything going on around her. "I did. We're not back together, though."

"I didn't think you were, based on the way he couldn't look you in the eyes over breakfast. He told you the truth then? About his mother?"

"He did," Pepper replied. "I won't share what he told me with you, though. It's not my right."

Natasha nodded in understanding. "His answer wasn't enough for you though. He closed off again. You want to know more."

Pepper wondered how Natasha still had the ability to surprise her with her intuition. "I do. I know where she's staying. I overheard Howard in his study talking about it. I need to meet her. I need to understand..." Pepper trailed off, not knowing how to put what she meant into words.

"You need to understand her to understand him," Natasha said. "You feel like there's a piece of him that you'll never be able to truly know without knowing her. Like he's a puzzle that you never really noticed before was unsolved, and you need to see the complete picture to finally achieve any kind of closure or resolution."

The accuracy of Natasha's simple statement shook Pepper. She could only nod in agreement and look back down at her eggs, which were now a soggy mess on her plate.

"You'll never be able to get in to see her," Natasha said. "There's no way that her illness has been a secret all these years unless she's kept under very careful guard in a secure facility. It would be too easy for one of Howard's enemies or the press to take advantage of the situation otherwise."

"I was thinking that," said Pepper. "I don't know what to do. I just know that I have to try, and I can't be here right now. Not with him..." she trailed off, unsure how she wanted to end the sentence. Natasha got the idea. They sat in silence for a moment.

"The SSR must know," Natasha finally said. "They probably assist Howard with keeping it a secret, given their expertise in that area. They may even provide additional security and assistance when the press ask questions. If the SSR knows, that means Fury knows and he could potentially get you in."

Pepper thought about that before realizing that there was one big problem with it. "What possible reason could we give Fury for needing to see Maria Stark? And wouldn't he feel obligated to tell Howard?"

"Not if we tell him the truth. Or at least a close approximation of it," Natasha said. "We don't have to tell him that Tony is with us, we could tell him that we know him in the future. Based on Steve's desire to have me accompany him to the SSR and the reaction we got yesterday, I know Fury's probably pressing hard for information about the future, about us. If we gave him even a little, it could probably get us a lot in return."

"No," said Pepper. "That wouldn't be right. I remember what Tony said yesterday about causing a paradox, about the dangers of us being here. I wouldn't want to risk anything for my own selfishness like that."

"Pepper," Natasha said gently, "we're all already risking everything just by being here. You don't think that Tony's presence in his father's workshop this close to the man's death is a problem? That Fury even seeing us hasn't had an impact? If Fury met us in 1991, he would have recognized us in the future when he put together the Avengers initiative. The way I see it, that means that one of two things must be true - either we've already screwed the future up beyond imagining, or Fury knew who we were this entire time anyway, which I wouldn't put past him. One answer means we're already in trouble, the other means that no matter what we do it's likely already happened before anyway. Complete chaos, or inescapable fate. I don't like either possibility, but I think either way we're past the point of having any control of the situation. We both know that Tony always finds a way to put his selfishness above personal safety anyway, and I know that Bruce and Steve are already contemplating far worse things. Do what you need to do. You won't get another opportunity like this."

Pepper realized that the things Natasha said made sense. She knew that if she didn't take advantage of her chance to finally understand Tony, she'd always regret it. "Fine," she said, trying to put more determination than she felt into her voice. "We'll talk to Nick. But Natasha, we cannot tell Tony, Steve or Bruce about this. This needs to stay between you and I. I don't even want to think about what could happen if Tony found out."

"Discretion is something that you never have to worry about with me, Pepper," Natasha replied, and Pepper couldn't help but notice that it sounded like the woman was promising more secrets between them in the future. The thought was strangely comforting.

 

* * *

 

**CAR EN ROUTE - AUGUST 1, 1991 10:15AM**

Pepper, Steve and Natasha sat quietly in the backseat of the SSR vehicle, while two SSR agents conversed in low voices in the front seat ignoring their strange passengers. Pepper spent some of the ride looking out the window, amusing herself by cataloguing the little differences in the otherwise familiar city streets that they drove through - a favourite sushi restaurant that was once a chinese laundromat, an Apple store that was once a video arcade, a factory that had been converted into luxury condominiums. After a while, the differences began to panic Pepper as she remembered where she was and what she was about to do, and so she turned to examine Steve, who was fidgeting nervously. She reached out to gently take his hand in hers and stop the fidgeting, hoping to calm his nerves.

"Is something wrong, Steve? Natasha mentioned that you were worried about Nick and that you were having some difficulty standing up to him?" she asked, Natasha's words about Steve contemplating something worse than what she was about to do moving to the forefront of her mind.

Steve looked at Natasha as though he was surprised that she had known that, and Pepper realized that perhaps Steve hadn't told Natasha anything.

"No," said Steve, "That's not exactly it. I've never had a problem standing up to Director Fury. There's just someone else I'm worried about."

"Who?" asked Pepper innocently. "Peggy Carter," Natasha filled in, looking for confirmation from Steve. He nodded.

"Who is that?" Pepper asked. "Someone you knew?"

"Someone I loved," said Steve. "Love," he added. "Was it that obvious, Nat?"

"I figured that Fury would try something like that with you when we left you," Natasha explained. "We both know he's not above manipulating people that way. I'm sorry that it was Agent Carter. I know how raw everything must feel right now, given the circumstances."

"It's okay," Steve said. "I'm just really not sure what to do. How do I..." It took him a moment to compose himself before his emotions took over. "How do I leave her again? Knowing that I'll be going back to a future without her. A future where I never said the things I should have, where I was such a coward."

"I'm sure she understands, Steve," Natasha said. "And you're lucky. You got some of that time without her back. That's not something most people get."

"I know that," Steve said. "It's just hard enough without Fury whispering in my ear, telling me that it doesn't have to be so difficult."

"He's trying to convince you to stay?" Pepper asked, shocked. "Surely he must know that you can't? I mean, Tony and Bruce explained to him what could happen! Why would he jeopardize the future like that?"

"Fury's a pragmatic man, Pepper, you know that," Natasha explained. "He cares about the present, the here and now. When you work for an organization that has such a keen awareness that the world could end at any moment, it's hard to be a long-term planner. The future's someone else's problem, as far as he's concerned, even if he knows it's not true in the end. I've been guilty of that too, at times."

"Well, you're not staying anyway, so I suppose it doesn't matter, right Steve?" Pepper asked. Steve simply stared ahead, lost in his own thoughts. It worried her. "Steve?"

He finally acknowledged her question. "Right. I can't. Can I?" He looked unsure. The three went silent again.

 

* * *

 

**ARCTIC CIRCLE - AUGUST 12, 2014 5:45PM**

Once Thor's hug had finally ended and Clint could breathe deeply again, he found himself facing the God of Thunder and a strangely silent Steve, full of questions he was scared to ask because he had no clue what the answers would be. Why did Steve look so different than the last time he had seen him that morning? Why had Thor come to Earth with the Tesseract? But first, Clint needed the most pressing question of all answered.

"What do you mean our friends are trapped in the past? What the hell is happening?" he asked, frustrated. He turned to Steve. "You were supposed to be standing by in case I needed help out here, and all I know is that I called Stark Tower and JARVIS told me you were gone!"

"That's because we were gone," Steve replied. "Are gone, in fact," he clarified.

"But you're here!" Clint insisted. "How can you be gone if you're here? What does Thor mean by trapped in the past?"

"'Tis the power of the Tesseract, Clint," said Thor seriously. "Not just in this realm or this era, but in the whole of the universe. It reaches out from wherever it is or has been to bend and shape the universe to its whims."

Clint could only stare at Thor, his mind trying to wrap itself around what the man was saying. Sometimes he felt like he needed a Thor to English dictionary. "Huh?" he asked.

"We..." Steve started, "that is to say, Tony, Natasha, Bruce and I, were ready to stand by and assist you this morning. But just after we spoke to you, there was a flash of light and the Tesseract pulled us, along with Pepper Potts, from Stark Tower into the past. Into 1991 to be exact."

"Okay?" Clint said, as though it were a question. "But if that's true, then how are you standing here talking to me? Did you all already come back? Thor said we needed to rescue you!"

"You do need to rescue the others. But not me," Steve said. "Even though I'm technically with them right now. I'm sorry, I'm trying to find a way to explain this that isn't confusing, but it's difficult, Clint. I'll try my best. Basically, we were in the past. We forwarded instructions for Fury and SHIELD to retrieve a machine from Howard Stark's workshop and for Thor to bring the Tesseract here. Fury is on his way here with the machine now, along with Jane Foster and Erik Selvig to assist us. With the machine and the power of the Tesseract, we can bring the others forward to the present day from where they're trapped."

"Why were you trapped there to begin with?" Clint asked.

"Howard Stark. He activated the Tesseract in 1991 trying to pull me from 1945, but he swept us up in it instead," Steve explained.

"It is the result of mortals fooling with powers that they do not understand and cannot contain. In this way, I suspect that Anthony and his father are very much alike," said Thor.

"Okay, right..." said Clint. "That makes sense, I guess." Even though it didn't. "But that still doesn't answer the big question."

"Which question is that?" asked Steve.

"Why you just said that we need to rescue the others, but not you. Steve, if we don't rescue you, how are you here?"


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Fury knows everything, Howard is lonely and frustrated, and Tony decides that it's time to fix something, dammit!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone!
> 
> So I have a new name. I changed it to line up more with my Tumblr, which is enthusiasmgirl.tumblr.com. I figured that it didn't make sense to have a different username here than everywhere else, in case people are wondering.
> 
> I hope everyone likes this chapter. It was a bit intense for me to write. It's also extremely long compared to usual - 4000 words or so! I felt bad because I haven't posted in a while, and this just kind of got out of hand. Also, please beware the foul language in this chapter - it just felt like it needed to be in there in terms of the character's voice given the circumstances.
> 
> Next chapter I promise more Steve and Peggy, and more Bruce, and more Pepper! But for now, please enjoy more messed up Stark family drama!
> 
> Comments help me keep going, so I welcome them! I accept any and all critiques with good humour and try not to take things too personally, so say what you need to say, please!

**SSR BASE, NYC - AUGUST 1, 1991 11:30AM**

Natasha knew that Director Fury would be waiting for them just inside the entrance when they reached the Stark Factory headquarters of the SSR. The man was impatient. He also liked to keep people off-kilter so that they could be more easily manipulated, and Steve was already so confused that he was an easy mark. She would have to be careful. While she kept her own emotions and attachments buried underneath a mask of indifference to avoid complications, the thought of going back to 2014 without the Captain was unacceptable to her. She needed him. She needed all of them.

She only hoped that Tony could handle himself and Bruce back at the mansion. As worried as she was, she could only put out one fire at once and right now Steve needed her to look out for him and give him something to focus on.

Of course, Fury was a smart man. He wasn't the only one waiting for them.

"Peggy!" Steve said. A tense smile just reached his eyes, but a sadness also lurked in them. It was almost as though he was relieved to see that she wasn't a figment of his imagination. Natasha's heart broke a little at the sight, although she would never admit it. This was going to be harder than she thought.

Peggy smiled a shy smile back at Steve and the two closed the distance between them to hold hands for a moment before embracing gently, neither wanting to let the other go. "Hello again," Steve said. Peggy laughed. It was as though they were in their own world for a moment, with everyone around them fading away.

Fury simply stood, observing smugly, before raising an eyebrow in curiosity at Natasha and Pepper's presence. Natasha jerked her head towards a hallway firmly indicating that she needed to speak to him and he got the message, heading towards the hallway quickly with his long coat sweeping behind him. Natasha indicated silently to Pepper to follow and the two left to converse with the Director in private. If Steve noticed their leaving he didn't seem to mind, caught up in the sensations of having the woman he loved in his arms.

Once they were alone, Fury turned and cast his lone eye upon the two women, his gaze steely. "Captain Rogers seems to believe that the two of you can be of some assistance to us in determining what exactly is happening to our drill team out at Fort Eureka. From what he tells me, I take it that the two of you also have some experience with the Tesseract?"

He was fishing, Natasha knew. Steve would never have implied that to the man. However, sometimes if you wanted the worm you had to risk putting yourself on the hook. She only hoped that Pepper was smart enough to keep to the background and allow her to be the one to take the bait.

"I do," Natasha said. "I've encountered it before. Although primarily I believe he asked me here because he doesn't trust you, Director."

"I thought it might be something like that. Although it would seem as though you don't seem to have that problem. Natasha, was it?"

"Yes, sir," Natasha responded. "And you're wrong. I don't trust you. You just don't make me nervous because I know you. I'm not as naive as Steve is. I know how you operate. But I also know that when push comes to shove, we're on the same side. So I'll help you. But you have to help us."

"Us. As in you and your friend here?" Fury asked.

"That's right," Natasha replied.

"And what exactly do you need help with?" Fury asked. "I've already provided you with access to my agents, to my base, and to the Tesseract itself, despite the fact that it wasn't my mistake that caused any of this. The way I see it, I'm being pretty generous already."

"Nothing you've offered us so far wasn't completely in the interests of the SSR. We both know it," Natasha replied. "You want information. That's what we want too. Why not work together?"

"Information?" Fury asked, curious.

"And access," Natasha stated, "to Maria Stark."

Natasha smiled slightly when she saw that she had taken the man completely by surprise with her request. She knew it was a rare thing for Nick Fury to not see something coming, so she savoured the moment. However, as quickly as the look of surprise on the man's face appeared, it vanished and a look of cool calculation took it's place.

"I take it by the fact that you're coming to me that you haven't talked to Howard about your burning desire for information from his wife?"

"That's correct," Natasha said. "We couldn't go to him about this. It would upset him since it's a sensitive topic, and we wouldn't be able to explain things to him without him asking questions that we can't answer."

"Questions about his son?" Fury asked. The man was good.

"That's right." Natasha said.

"Are you sure he hasn't already figured it out?" Fury asked.

Natasha wasn't expecting that question. "Figured out what?" she asked, wanting to know how much of the situation Fury had already deduced.

"Figured out that the time he's spending working on the Tesseract right now is actually a pretty messed up father son bonding session."

A small cough punctuated the moment as Natasha's shock and turned her gaze away from Fury and to where Pepper stood in the corner of the room. "Sorry," Pepper said, looking flustered. "Just... how did you know?" she asked.

And there it was. Fury was a master angler, and the hook was being reeled in with a good meal on the end of it. Fury disregarded Pepper's question and turned his attention back to Natasha.

"Howard knows," Fury said.

"He doesn't," Natasha replied. "Will you help us?"

"Does your friend Mr. Hammer know you're here?" Fury asked.

"You know that he doesn't. You got your information. Now we need ours. Will you help us?" Natasha asked again.

There was a long pause as Fury considered his options. Finally, he nodded his head. "I take it that the access you need is to be provided to your friend here?" He pointed at Pepper. Natasha nodded.

"A warning for you. I'm not sure about the son yet, but Howard Stark... he's both the most oblivious and smartest man I've ever met. He may not know yet, but you need to think about what you're going to do when he figures it out."

The conversation was over. Pepper slowly leaned back against the wall as Fury swept from the room and breathed in deeply, looking at Natasha with an apology in her eyes.

  
"Make it worth it," Natasha said, before leaving the room to go find Steve and talk him through inevitable heartbreak. She just wanted to go home.

* * *

 

 

**STARK MANSION - AUGUST 1, 1991 11:00AM**

  
Howard knew that he should join his two time travelling friends in his workshop. He couldn't actually remember ever having left anyone alone in his workshop before. So very few people had ever even seen it, especially given how many classified projects it housed. But, for some reason, he felt a strange kinship with the two men he'd let into his home and his life yesterday. He wasn't sure if it was because they were clearly as smart as he was and carried the same sense of enthusiasm about discovery and science as he did, or if it was because they were friends of Steve and that was good enough for him. He just knew that he hadn't felt any anxiety or apprehension about letting them share his space with him. It was nice. He had been so lonely recently.

It was strange. He'd never noticed the isolation before. He supposed it was because he'd always surrounded himself with people - Obie, the SSR, his staff, colleagues and employees of all kinds. And the people were part of the larger whole of a life made up of constant tinkering, work and philanthropy. He'd never been able to relax or stop. He'd worked constantly on anything and everything to keep him feeling as though he was moving forward, as though he was contributing something to the world. Even at his most alone in his workshop he was always so engaged in what he was doing, so present in his own body as his ideas and thoughts took over and everything else fell away. Now, in his 70's, he was finally slowing down. He couldn't work as hard as he used to. He couldn't distract himself anymore from noticing that things had gotten away from him somehow.

When had it happened? He really had no idea. He tried to pinpoint it down to one particular incident, one moment. When had his wife stopped loving him? When had her illness gotten so out of control, or had it always been that way? When had his son stopped wanting anything to do with him? When had his board of directors started listening to Obie instead of him? When had the weapons he built started to feel as though they weren't really his anymore despite the name written on the side of them? It was as though he'd awoken from a deep but pleasant slumber and realized that he'd been believing in a dream when the reality was a nightmare in which everyone in his life who meant something had moved on and forgotten about him. Those who were left were sycophants and hangers-on.

His plan to use the Tesseract to find Steve had been hare-brained, he'd admit. But it had made him feel alive. It had given him hope that maybe he could still turn things around. Maybe his legacy would be different. The previous night's conversation with Steve had made him feel so incredibly relieved. The thought that his son would grow up to be a better man than him someday had made him so happy, and he'd gone to bed feeling like everything would work out.

This morning, however, he'd woken up to the sharp shock of remembering that no matter what was going to happen someday, in the present day his wife and son still hated him and the only person who was even friendly towards him was likely trying to take over his company. Now, here he was, unable to find the energy to face anyone, sitting on his son's bed with a scotch in his hand trying not to cry as he stared at a picture of a slightly happier time. His son was so small in the picture sitting on his wife's lap. Even then, Maria looked worn out and hollow. It had been so long since she'd been the woman he married. There was another photo that had fallen over, and as Howard moved to right it he couldn't help but gasp. It was a happy photo, one that Howard couldn't remember ever having seen before. His son and his best friend - Edwin Jarvis, the butler who'd practically raised him - were sitting together on the front porch of the main house. It had clearly been torn, but had been lovingly pieced back together. The look his son was giving the man was one of such adoration. Finally, Howard broke down and cried, sobbing into his drink.

He cried for the little boy in the picture who'd lost someone so dear to him, and who rarely smiled so openly after that. He cried because the loss was his fault. He cried because his son had never once looked at him like that. He hadn't known that Tony had kept this particular picture all these years. But he understood why. And it was something that he could never be forgiven for.

After a few minutes, he composed himself. He stared intently at the telephone on the side table and made a decision. Flipping through his wallet for the small business card on which he'd written the number he needed, he dialed. The wheel on the rotary phone turned slowly with each number, the clicking resonating loudly in his brain. Finally, it rang. Then, it was picked up. It was a woman.

"Hello?" the voice said sleepily.

"Hello," said Howard tentatively. "Is Tony there?" Who on Earth was picking up his son's phone?

"Yeah, he's here," said the woman, and Howard could hear shuffling and murmuring on the other end. "He wants to know who's asking?" the woman finally asked.

"Tell him it's his father calling," Howard said. He could almost hear the expression on the woman's face as she realized who she was speaking with. Then, the phone dropped with a thud and he could hear murmured arguing. "frrrhmph... don't wanna talk to that asshole... I don't care, tell him I've OD'd on heroin and crack and can't pick up... hrmphfrmph... fuck that..."

Finally, the argument must have ended, because his son came on the line. "What do you want?" he asked angrily.

Howard stretched the telephone cord out to lay back on his son's small bed. Maybe this was a bad idea. He may have been too drunk to do this.

"What, I can't want to talk to my son all of a sudden? I just wanted to talk to you. I haven't heard from you in a while. All I hear anymore are reports from Obie, and he's pretty tightlipped these days about your activities. So I figured I'd give you a call. Is that okay with you?" He hadn't meant to sound so defensive, but it was too late to correct it now.

"No, actually. I'm kind of in the middle of something," Tony replied.

"I know, I heard. Blonde or redhead? Blondes are more fun, but redheads are more loyal. Trust me. I've actually met a couple recently that you'd probably get along with..." This had definitely been a mistake.

"What... is this a joke call? How drunk are you right now? Are you being fucking serious?"

There was silence as Howard tried to figure out why, exactly, he had decided to pick up the phone. Before he could figure it out he was interrupted. "I'm hanging up the phone now. If you remember whatever it was you wanted once you sober up, relay the message to Obie and I'm sure I'll get it-"

"Wait!" Howard said, not sure if he could bear the deafening click of the line going dead. "I wanted to find out from you if you've talked to your mother lately."

The click didn't come. However, the tense silence was almost worse.

"Why would I do that? I don't have anything to say to her," Tony said. "And anything she had to say to me wouldn't make any sense and we both know it."

"I know," said Howard, regretting this conversation more than ever. "I was just thinking that maybe it would be nice if we went out to see her. Together. The two of us, you know? I mean, we are a family, aren't we?" God, he hoped that they were a family, that his son would at least give him that.

"Are we? Because it seems like she's a fucking nutcase who's as likely to stab me as look at me right now. And you've certainly got more important shit to do." There it was. He should never have done this.

"God!" Tony continued, "Why are you doing this to me? Don't I give you enough of my time to your company functions and charity bullshit. I have exams coming up, I've got my own life now Not that you care. Why don't you just drink some coffee, go back to creating new ways to fuck up the Middle East, maybe get laid with someone who actually can stand to look at you and get off my goddamned back, alright?"

Howard was trying. He really felt like he was. He knew that some of this was his fault, but sometimes his kid just pushed things so much that he couldn't help but let it get to him. "Why don't you watch your mouth! You do not get to talk to me like that. I am doing the best I can, goddamnit! I know that I have done a lot of things in my life that you don't agree with, but please don't take things out on your mother. She is ill. And she needs us right now."

"Fuck her!" Tony interrupted. "She always needs us. When do we get to need her, huh? Why do you waste your time pretending that her illness somehow makes up for the fact that she's a terrible person. I am so done with this. Just don't talk to me. I can't do this right now." Click. The line went dead.

There was a loud smash and slamming sound as Howard yanked the entire phone out of the wall in frustration and hurled it across the room with a choked cry. He picked up the photo of his wife and son and slammed it onto the ground, wishing he were more satisfied as he heard the crunch of the glass breaking. As the tears streamed down his face, he heard a gasp and turned to find the door had somehow opened further and he was being observed.

Justin Hammer stood in the doorway staring at him in his moment of weakness. But as their eyes locked, Howard saw something there. The man was crying. But why would he be...

Howard realized how stupid he'd been. His son, the middle aged version of his son, saw the recognition in his eyes, and before Howard could utter a word he was gone, disappearing down the hallway. As Howard stood there, in shock, he could hear the muffled sound of the front entrance door slamming shut behind him.

 

* * *

 

**STARK MANSION - AUGUST 1, 1991 11:35AM**

  
Tony walked. He knew where he was going, where his heart had wanted to take him almost from the moment he'd stepped foot on the grounds of his parent's estate again. Pepper had inspired him with what she'd said to him in the car on the way over. She'd said that he had an opportunity to get closure on things. She'd been talking about his father, and he'd briefly entertained the idea of trying to do that after spending more time with the man, but clearly that was a lost cause. So now he was walking. Eventually he'd find a payphone and try to call a cab. He knew where he had to go and who he needed to see.

He couldn't stay in the mansion right now. He knew that too. Not after seeing what he saw. Hearing what he overheard. Not with his father having recognized him. It was too much. Bruce would understand.

He remembered that conversation. Remembered it from his end. He knew how it went, in fact he could almost recite it word for word. He'd gone over it in his head so many times in the last twenty-three years. It was the cause of so much confusion and guilt. It was the last conversation he'd had with his father before he died. Before both his parents died. The last thing he had ever said to them or about them before they were gone forever, and it had been so hateful and full of anger. He could never take it back. Not ever.

He'd never been able to figure out why his father had called him that morning. It had thrown Tony at the time. He'd woken up in his apartment next to a woman whose name he couldn't recall, who he couldn't even picture anymore, and he remembered just being so irritated. His father never called him like that. He certainly never suggested that they visit his mother. They hadn't done that together since Tony was eight or nine years old, and even that was rare. Everything at that point with his father had gone through Obie because things were so strained between them, and even when he did see the man it was usually by appointment to appear at an event or function. His father's strange desire to talk and see him hadn't made any sense to Tony then. He hadn't known how to respond, and so he'd lashed out, unsure what was happening.

Seeing the conversation from his father's side of things had made him feel so much worse. He hadn't meant to intrude. He'd just been walking by to get to the washroom when he'd overheard the yelling coming from the direction of his old bedroom and been drawn in by it.

Seeing his father laying on his own bed had been a shock. The man had looked like a wreck. He was drunk. He'd clearly been crying. It was an image of his father that didn't line up with what he knew about the man or remembered. When he realized the conversation the man had been engaged in, he couldn't turn away.

And his father's reaction had been so unexpected and upsetting. Tony had only ever felt guilty about that conversation once the man was gone, not at the time. He'd been puzzled by the conversation, but never assumed that it had meant that much to the man. Now, he realized for the first time exactly what his father may have been going through and may have wanted from him that morning. It hurt. A lot.

He couldn't face it. Not his father. Not Pepper. He couldn't fix those things. There was no way to salvage them. But maybe Tony could fix something. Maybe he could salvage things with the one person who had truly earned a bit of closure. Edwin Jarvis.


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Howard realizes that things are actually worse than he thought, Pepper wishes she'd never decided to stick her nose in the Stark family's dysfunction, and Tony is reunited with the man who made him (who he then made into a computer).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whaaat? Two chapters in two days? Yes, that is a thing that I am doing right now.
> 
> I just couldn't contain it anymore. This story is starting to burst out of me in increasing volumes like a flood that I can't stop, and I'm just having too much fun with it. Consider it a repayment for the long wait between recent chapters.
> 
> Pepper! Edwin Jarvis (finally)! More Howard Stark! Obadiah Stane! This chapter is full of good things. However, it is missing other good things such as Steve, Clint, Bruce and the Red Skull so expect them in future chapters (as much as I really just want to keep writing about the skeletons in the Stark family closet forever, actual other story elements will make their way back in next chapter. Hopefully.)

**STARK MANSION - AUGUST 1, 1991 11:35AM**

Howard stared for a long while at the bedroom door in a kind of a daze, unable to process the state of his life. How had he not noticed it? How could he possibly have just spent hours in the company of his own son without realizing who he was? Now that he thought about it, it seemed so obvious. The voice. The mannerisms. Sure, he had grown facial hair and was definitely a little rougher around the edges, but it was unacceptable to Howard that he hadn't seen it. He felt like such a terrible failure to the man, to everyone in his life in fact. Why would his son want anything to do with anyone who could be that oblivious and hurtful?

No wonder the older man had been so short with him. If Steve's description was anything to go on, his son was everything Howard could never be and everything he'd hoped he would be. And for the last day and a half the man had been forced to confront exactly how pathetic and selfish Howard was, a drunken mess. He hated himself and he had no idea how to fix it. If he even could fix it.

This belief was reinforced when he turned around to begin to clean up the mess he'd made of the bedroom and saw that in his rage he'd thrown the phone at the bookshelf and broken it, knocking it's contents to the floor. Looking down at the floor Howard could see, almost hidden by the heavy book it had been stored in, a collection of drugs and other paraphernalia that made his heart shatter. Suddenly the strange woman who answered his son's telephone made a sickening amount of sense. Howard sank down on the bed feeling the weight of everything sitting on his shoulders like gravity itself had shifted. When had this happened? How could things possibly have been more out of control than he realized?

His wife couldn't be blamed. She couldn't share this burden with him. She already had so many of her own, and Howard didn't want to put that on her. She was so fragile as it was. However, as he sat and thought he remembered that there was someone else in his life who he could direct some of his anger and frustration at. Someone whom he had trusted to look out for his son and protect him who clearly wasn't doing his job. Howard was going to have to have a very uncomfortable conversation with Obadiah Stane.

* * *

 

**EATONVILLE WELLNESS CENTRE - AUGUST 1, 1991 12:05PM**

Pepper shifted nervously in her chair in the waiting room of the hospital while waiting for the SSR agent who had accompanied her to check them in as visitors so that they could see Maria. Once again she contemplated whether or not this was a good idea and whether or not she should just tell the man to take her back to the mansion. She felt so conflicted. What if meeting Maria was a disaster? What if it was a Pandora's box that she could never close again and it completely changed her relationship with Tony? She didn't know if she could handle that.  
Finally the agent shuffled over to her. "We'll have to wait," he said. "She has another visitor already."

"Oh!" said Pepper, surprised. Perhaps it was the housekeeper who Howard had sent. She couldn't imagine that many people visited the woman other than Howard or Tony, which made her somewhat sad to think about.

She sat for another minute or two, chewing her hair slightly and still debating whether to leave, when she saw him. It was Obadiah Stane again, barreling down the hallway of the hospital and into the waiting room like he owned the place.

He wasn't smiling. There was none of the sympathetic warmth she'd heard in his voice the night before with Howard. Today there was only the predatory glint in his eye that she remembered from those days after Tony's return from Afghanistan. She still couldn't believe she ever hadn't noticed it. It had seemed so obvious in retrospect that he had been manipulating all of them. It had been so hard to believe that he could ever have betrayed Tony at first, but once she'd seen it with her own eyes it tainted every memory of him. It made her tense and angry to think that she'd ever let that man anywhere near Tony. The man was a psychopath. Knowing that he was Maria's visitor upset her.

It was hard for her to continue to act casual, but she knew that he didn't know who she was or recognize her. He simply passed her by on his way to the pay phone.

She wanted to run from the room and get some air, but she felt glued to the spot. Who was he talking to? She was curious to know.

"Hey, kid," she overheard him say. Her stomach did a flip. She'd only ever heard that particular paternal tone of exasperation used by Obadiah on one person before.

"Did you leave something behind in your bedroom at the house? ... What do you mean what do I mean? I just got a call from your father asking me why I neglected to tell him that his son is drinking, doing drugs, and having sex! ... What do mean he called you? Why would he have called you? He doesn't call you, he asks me to do it! Jesus, kid, what did you do? ... Look, we have an agreement. I keep you out of trouble with the press and with your old man, and you help me out with designs for the company under the table without your father knowing when I need them. That's how this works. But I can't do that if you're not going to be more careful. Now, I had to promise him that I didn't know and tell him I'd take care of it. So unless you want to end up drying out in a rehab facility not allowed anywhere near the family business, you need to play it cool for a little while, alright buddy? ... Thank you. I'll talk to him. I don't know what's going on with him lately, to be honest, I think he's working himself too hard. ... Can do. Bye, kiddo." Obadiah slammed the phone down in frustration nearly breaking the machine. His body language betrayed the warmth and kind tone he'd been able to relay in the conversation. Quickly, he pulled himself back together and stormed out of the room.

As he passed Pepper, she couldn't help but smell the lingering scent of a woman's perfume on the man and notice the lipstick on his collar. She thought she might be sick. This had been a terrible idea.

* * *

 

**EAST HARLEM, NYC - AUGUST 1, 1991 12:45PM**

Tony stood at the pay phone nervously, trying to figure out how he could possibly touch the phone to pick it up without catching the plague. It was disgusting. Even the phone booth itself smelled of urine and was covered in grafitti. How did people live like this? How had he let someone he loved live like this? It was shameful. When he got home, maybe he'd start a new charity that did outreach to clean up some of the worse New York neighborhoods. At least his technology had already contributed to the rise of cell phones which had made phone booths like this one unnecessary. That made him feel a bit better, because this was gross.

Managing to pull the sleeves of his hoodie down so that they covered his hands, he finally managed to cradle the phone between his sleeve covered hands delicately and get it to his ear. Dialing the numbers was impossible to do without using his fingers though, and he shuddered each time one of his digits touched a button.

He dialed the sixth number in the phone book in front of him. Jarvis was all it said, no first initial was listed. He hoped that this one would be it and he wouldn't have to continue to do this. The phone rang for what seemed like hours but was in reality a minute or two, and finally someone picked up.

"Hello?" said the person, and Tony's heart skipped several beats. Hearing that familiar British accent was instinctively comforting to him, like being wrapped in a warm hug. He hadn't realized how much he'd missed it, even though technically he'd only just heard it the day before.

"Hello?" the voice asked again, and Tony remembered that he hadn't said anything yet.

"Is this Edwin Jarvis?" Tony finally asked.

A moment passed. "Yes. Who is this?"

Tony found himself paralyzed. What was he supposed to say? "Hello, do you remember the kid you looked after for a few years back in the 70's. Well I'm him but from the future?" I mean, it was ridiculous! What was he thinking?

But he couldn't hang up. Not now. He needed to do this. "It's, umm... Tony. Tony Stark. I'm not sure if you remember..."

"Oh!" Jarvis said, and was it Tony's imagination or did he sound choked up? "Don't hang up! Please! Of course I remember you, Tony. This is... this is unexpected. It's been such a long time."

"It has been," Tony said. "I've missed you." It came out before he could control it. Christ, the man probably thought he was insane! What was wrong with him? He was blowing this.

"I've missed you too. Genuinely, I have. I'm glad you called."

The response caught Tony completely by surprise and he felt as though his heart grew three sizes in his chest. "Really?" he asked.

"Absolutely, sir." Jarvis replied. There it was. He called him sir. Still. After all these years. That was the reason he'd decided to replicate the man's personality in the artificial intelligence that ran his life. Jarvis was always there for him, even now.

"May I ask why though?" Jarvis asked. "It seems odd to be hearing from you out of the blue like this. Does your mother know you're talking to me?"

"I..." Tony didn't know how to put it. "I don't care who knows I'm talking to you. It doesn't matter. I heard that you were having a hard time. That you were ill. And I wanted to make sure that I got a chance to talk to you... to let you know how sorry I am..." He trailed off, unsure how to continue.

"Oh," said Jarvis. "How did you know?" he asked. Tony could hear the tension in the man's voice.

"It's complicated," Tony replied. "Could I see you? I'm in your neighborhood. East Harlem, right? I was hoping to visit."

"I don't think that's a good idea, really. I'm not exactly up for visitors these days." Jarvis said.

"Right," said Tony, "Of course. That makes sense. I just... Are you alone? Do you have anyone who is taking care of you right now? I hate to think that you're on your own dealing with everything. I thought you might appreciate the company."

"It would be nice," Jarvis said. "Just... I don't want you to see me like this."

"I don't care," Tony said. "You need someone right now. Please let me help you. I'm not leaving until you say yes. I'm camped out in a phone booth. It's disgusting and once it gets dark I'll probably get stabbed or mugged or worse, but I'll stay here, I swear, until you agree to let me see you. Is that what you want?"

There was a sigh on the other end of the phone. That sigh. Tony knew it so well. When he'd programmed JARVIS, he'd managed to capture the real man's voice based on recordings so exactly that it was eerie to talk to the real person now, but he'd never been able to make his artificial creation sigh that familiar long-suffering sigh like that, full of exasperation and affection. It made Tony smile. He knew he'd won.

"I'm at 215 East 25th Street. Apartment 305. Just..." the man paused and Tony knew he was trying to pull himself together. "Don't be surprised. I look... different than you remember. Not like you might expect."

"I can guarantee that I'll probably surprise you too," said Tony, not sure yet how he was going to explain being 20 years older than the man was assuming, "I mean, the last time you saw me I was only a couple feet tall and still peed the bed, so I bet we'll have a lot to talk about."

"Ah, so you don't wet the bed anymore, then?" Jarvis asked, teasing him. "That's good to hear, at least. I worried that I'd be completely irreplaceable and that without me you'd never grow up."

"You were," Tony said, teasing him back. But he meant it. He really did. "And I didn't."

The man laughed gently, and Tony thought that it was a pity he hadn't brought anything with him that could record sound because he would give anything to be able to get JARVIS to laugh like that once he went home. But he knew it would never happen.

"I'll see you soon, then," Jarvis said.

"See you soon," said Tony. He juggled to get the phone back on the hook without touching it.


	18. Chapter 18

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Steve admits he's not okay, Peggy has gotten wise with age, and Bruce somehow manages to stay calm while dealing with the drunken mess that is Howard Stark.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Three chapters in three days! (And probably another chapter tomorrow). This should make you all very happy. It makes me very happy.
> 
> Also, ANGST! So much angst! It wasn't until I finished writing this chapter that I realized how much sobbing and catharsis was in it, but it is what it is. Those of you who like that kind of thing will love this chapter. Enjoy!

**SSR BASE - AUGUST 1, 1991 11:35AM**

Steve clung to Peggy, not wanting to ever let her go. He knew that Pepper and Natasha had gone to speak privately with Fury, and that he should probably get started assisting the team Fury had set up with contacting their missing agents, but he didn't care. Peggy was here, in his arms, alive and holding him. She smelled so good, like warm tea and honey. Just as he remembered. From the moment he'd seen her when they stepped through the door, he'd known that in the end nothing mattered to him except her. He'd made a decision. All of his uncertainty had vanished.

After a long while, they finally separated and Steve took her hand in his. It was so small and frail next to his own, their different paths in life obvious as he examined their intertwined fingers. She had lived so many years without him. He wouldn't let that happen again.

"Steve..." Peggy said, but he interrupted her.

"We need to talk. Is there somewhere private we can go?" he asked.

"But your friends..." Peggy said.

"They'll be fine," Steve said, knowing it was true. "I just..." he stuttered, unable to find the words to express what he needed to. "Please."

She nodded and together they made their way down the hallway to a small office that was currently vacant.

Peggy looked at him expectedly, waiting for him to begin, but suddenly he was overwhelmed by so many emotions. The guilt, grief and immense weight on his shoulders all hit him in a sudden wave and he couldn't control it anymore. For the first time in the entire two years since he'd woken up in that SHIELD hospital room, he broke down. He collapsed to the floor and sobbed and wailed and Peggy simply crouched down beside him and held him while he let it all out. And while she held him and comforted him, he never once looked her in the eyes. He couldn't.

"You died," he finally sniffled in a quiet voice once he'd calmed down enough.

A moment passed before Peggy responded. "Everyone does eventually," she said. "I never imagined that I'd be any different."

"No," Steve said, "You don't understand. You died and I wasn't there. I woke up in the future and I just couldn't... I never told you... Peggy, I'm so sorry."

"You don't have anything to apologize for," Peggy replied. "I understand. Understood, I should say. It's okay."

"It's really not," Steve said, staring at the floor, "But if I stay it could be."

There was silence for a long moment as Peggy took that in. "No," she said, gently.

"Peggy..." Steve pleaded, needing her to understand.

"You cannot stay here, Steve," Peggy interrupted. "Not now, not with me."

"But I can't leave you, Peggy." Steve said. "I can't go through that again."

"You said yourself that you have a home in the future. A place where you belong. The world, the one you came from that I cannot even begin to imagine right now, needs Captain America."

"Doesn't this world need him too?" Steve asked.

"I have a feeling it'll get by without him for now," replied Peggy.

"Don't you?" Steve asked, his voice so low that Peggy almost didn't hear him.

"The man I need, the man I've always needed, was never Captain America. It was always Steve Rogers. You know that. But I like to think that everything happens for a reason, even if I'm not privy to what it is. The universe decided that 2014 was where you should end up, and who am I to stand in the way of that? Besides, whether it matters to you or not I'm an old woman now. I've lived my life, Steve. You deserve to live yours."

"You could be my life," Steve said. "Should have been, all those years ago. What I have now is... I don't know. I wake up in the morning and I look in the mirror and I don't recognize myself some days. I see this icon, this person who everyone has on this pedestal, staring back at me. Captain America. So I go out, and I be him. I be what people expect me to be. And inside, I feel like Steve Rogers never really left the ice. Which is fine, because where would he fit in 2014 anyway after having outlived everything familiar? I need you, Peggy. I need you to remind me who I am."

"Oh, Steve," Peggy said, heartbroken. "You're a good man, that's who you are. You don't need me to remind you of that, it's just a fact. And you're still so young. Maybe you don't feel that way, but you are. Young enough to make a new life for yourself, to start over again in a new time and place. If you go back, you'll thaw out eventually.

If you stay with me, I'll only leave you again. It's inevitable. And by then, the best years of your life will be gone and you won't be able to pick up where you left off. You've sacrificed so much, and you've earned more than spending your youth with an old woman who's falling apart a little more every day, watching her wither away while you descend into middle age. Trust me, Steve, these are years you'll never get back, and I don't want you wasting them with me. Not like this."

They sat together for a moment in quiet contemplation, just holding one another while they thought through the things they'd said to one another.

"I love you, Peggy," Steve finally said, putting it out there. "I know that you think I'd be wasting my life with you, but I would never feel that way. Not for a second."

"I love you too Steve," Peggy replied, "but you can't know that. The closer you get to the end of things, the more your perspective changes. Maybe if you had forever to give to the world, I'd believe you. But you don't. Trust me."

She pressed a gentle kiss into his hair, and passed him a handkerchief to wipe the tears away, and then stood up, holding out her hand. "Now, you've got people waiting for you and a mystery to solve. Come on then."

He pulled himself up and took her hand, trying hard not to think about the fact that it could be one of the last times he got to hold it. Together, they left to find the others.

* * *

 

 

**STARK MANSION - AUGUST 1, 1991 12:15PM**

Bruce's fingers ached from maintaining his grip on the pencil for so long. He'd forgotten what it was like to not have access to modern technology, especially since moving in with Tony. Completing all of the necessary calculations to chart the fluctuations in energy the Tesseract was giving off was tedious work without a computer, but still rewarding. It's strange properties that shouldn't exist according to the known laws of physics excited Bruce.

He was startled out of a particularly complex set of data by the grinding sound of the workshop doors being opened. Was Tony finally back? The man had gone to go to the bathroom over an hour ago. Bruce had assumed that he'd gotten distracted. It was a common problem when you worked closely with the man long enough.

The footsteps he heard didn't sound right though, and Bruce turned around to see a clearly drunk Howard Stark stumbling his way into the room. It surprised Bruce a bit. He'd noticed that Howard was definitely a heavy drinker, but being this drunk by noon? That definitely hadn't been in the news clips he'd seen growing up.

Knowing he needed to be careful in such an unpredictable situation, Bruce gently stated "You've been drinking."

Howard just leaned against the wall and stared at him for a long moment. "Yep. Today's been one of those days. Maybe even THE day, actually, now that I think about it," he said.

"THE day?" Bruce asked, confused.

"The day I was finally forced to admit that I'm unhappy, and that things aren't okay," he said. "Sorry to be unloading this on you, Bruce. I know you're a complete stranger, and it's impolite to do that to someone. I don't know though. There's just something about you I like."

Bruce didn't know what to say to that. So Howard continued.

"Then again, It would make sense if I liked you. I mean, my son likes you, doesn't he? The two of you are buddies. It runs in the family, maybe. At least it's one thing that does." He rambled.

Bruce's anxiety started to rise at his mention of his son. That wasn't good. What had Tony done? "What exactly do you mean your son likes me, Mr. Stark?"

Howard laughed bitterly to himself. "I'm an idiot, is what it means. How could I not see it, Bruce? I mean, he's my kid right? I should recognize him when I see him. It's not right."

"I should go," Bruce said, and he started to head towards the door. He really shouldn't keep himself in such a volatile situation.

"No," Howard said, and something about the pleading tone in his voice made Bruce stop and listen. "Please. I don't... Tony left," he said, "and I don't want to be alone anymore. I'm so tired of it. I need a friend, Bruce. Can you do that? Can you be my friend? You don't have to mean it, most people don't. Just pretend. Please?"

So Tony had left. Where had he gone? Bruce felt irritated by this, and he breathed deeply and counted to five in his head to will the irritation away. He needed to remain calm and remember that it was probably very upsetting for Tony having his father figure out who he was. He probably hadn't known what else to do.

Bruce nodded to Howard, recognizing the sadness and desperation in the man. "What happened?" he asked, trying to sound sympathetic.

"I wish I knew," said Howard. "I mean... he used to be this little boy with dark curls and a gap-toothed grin and sticky fingers. All kids have sticky fingers, don't they? It's like a thing? And then he wasn't all of a sudden he was looking at me like I was dirt under his shoe and answering questions in monosyllables and snorting cocaine apparently, and when did that happen? Does he still do that?"

Bruce realized that the man had taken his question the wrong way. "I meant today, Mr. Stark. I'm sorry..."

"Howard, Brucie, my name is Howard. It's wierd when people are that formal. It makes me feel old." Bruce smiled at Howard's use of the nickname. "And today I called my son because I wanted to talk to him. That's all. That's it. I don't understand why that's such a big deal."

Bruce hated dealing with drunken people. It brought back too many unpleasant memories and frustrated him. But he worked to push through it, knowing that the man in front of him needed someone to talk to. "You called Tony at MIT?" he asked, clarifying.

"Yep. He didn't answer. A woman did. That's another area I'm out of the loop on. He's got women now, in his bed and in his life. And I have no clue who they are. Goddammit!" His voice broke and he picked up a screwdriver on a table next to him and threw it across the room in frustration.

Bruce panicked for a moment. "Howard," he said trying to keep his tone level, "If we're going to talk I need you to calm down, okay? Can you do that? It's not good for me to be around people when they're upset like this."

Howard looked at him and his mood shifted. He sank down to the floor with his back against the wall and looked up at Bruce with heartbreak in his eyes. "I'm sorry. Really. I'm just... I don't know what to do. How is he, Bruce? Really? Is he okay? He seemed okay to me, but apparently I am the world's worst judge of that..."

Bruce crouched down so that his eyeline was level with Howard and looked the man in the eyes. "He's fine. Now, at least. I'm not going to lie to you. He wasted a lot of his life on women and booze and drugs and whatever else you've just realized he's doing, but it ends up okay, Howard. He figures it out on his own."

"On his own, huh?" said Howard. "Why did he feel like he was on his own? That's the part I just don't get. What happened?"

Bruce thought about it for a moment, wanting to phrase what he was about to say properly. He certainly couldn't tell the man that he was about to die, as unfair as it seemed. "You cast a long shadow. That's all. It's not really your fault. You're just... you, I guess. But who you are is Howard Stark, one of the smartest, richest and most well regarded men in the world. That's a lot for anyone to live up to."

"I never expected him to live up to me," Howard said. "In fact, in case you haven't noticed, I'm not exactly the best example of a functional human being. I only ever wanted him to be himself, to be better than me in fact."

"It doesn't matter if you put those expectations on him or not. The rest of the world did." Bruce tried to explain. "They all expected him to be the version of you who they saw - the man who helped win the Second World War and helped make this country a global superpower, the confident genius who never doubted himself or what he needed to do."

"That's not me," Howard interrupted. "That's never been me. I am not that man..."

"I can see that. And you know that. But everyone else had a different impression, and especially once Tony was in a position where he had to take over your company..."

At that, Howard's entire body seemed to recoil and he looked Bruce directly in the eyes, distraught. "Tony took over Stark Industries?"

Bruce was confused at Howard's surprise. "Eventually," he said, not wanting to risk the man realizing that the event they were discussing was about to happen. "But you must have known he would someday. I'd assumed you'd always wanted it to be his legacy."

"Are you..." Howard started to cry and Bruce didn't know what to do. This was spiralling out of control quickly. "It wasn't even supposed to be my legacy, let alone his! I wanted more from him! I wanted him to build something of his own, I never wanted him to follow in my footsteps! To have the blood that's on my hands stain his! Christ! I can't even..." The man put his head in his hands and lost it. Bruce couldn't do anything other than rub the man's back gently until he calmed down.

Then, suddenly, Howard's posture changed and he was up like a shot. Bruce stood too, not sure what to do with the man's sudden shift in mood.

"Right then," Howard said firmly, "I'm going to put this right. I'm going to call him back and I'm going to make sure that he knows the truth." He made to leave the room, but Bruce moved to intercept. Things had gotten out of hand, and Bruce knew that more was at risk than just Tony's relationship with his father at this point.

"You can't do that," Bruce said.

"Why the hell not? Now that I know..." Howard said.

"No!" Bruce said firmly, having to work very hard to calm his thoughts and breathe. "You can't change anything. This isn't what was supposed to happen."

At that, Howard stopped and Bruce knew he understood. "Oh, God," Howard said. "The version of Tony I met, the one who's your friend... I can't fix this can I? He took over Stark Industries. He had to figure out everything on his own. He hated me. And so that's what has to happen, isn't it?"

Bruce could only sadly nod his head as the man realized the situation they were in.

"But how can I..." he continued, "What am I supposed to do now? Just let it happen! Just pretend I don't know how awful everything is going to be? Just let him drift away from me, let him go through what I went through? I can't do that! I won't!" He shook his head.

What could Bruce say to that? That the man wouldn't be around to see any of it anyway? That in only days his son would be completely and totally alone? It broke Bruce's heart.

"It will all work out, Howard," he finally said.

"No," the man replied, "It won't. But there's nothing I can do about it, is there?"

And Bruce could only nod his head no.

"Well," said Howard, his mood shifting again to a determined resignation. "I'm going to grab a coffee then and sober up. And then I'm going to come back, and we're going to work on getting you home. And eventually, maybe I can make things right 23 years too late at least." The man moved towards the door. Bruce turned to go back to work.

"Hey, Bruce," Howard called out to him on his way out. Bruce turned around. "Has anyone ever told you that you're a good listener? Very zen. I'm glad Tony has someone so stable and calm in his life. You're a good friend and smarter than either of us."

Bruce smiled to himself and entire body relaxed, the tension he'd been holding onto trying to get through that conversation without upsetting himself evaporating. Even if this entire situation ended up being a disaster, at the very least he could say that Howard Stark himself had said he was smarter than him. Maybe everything really would be okay.


	19. Chapter 19

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Maria is definitely not in her right mind and shares a disturbing story with Pepper, Jarvis is coming to terms with both his own inevitable death AND a time travelling superhero in his living room, and things get much, much worse.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another chapter! Go me! 
> 
> Also, more crying! I promise the next chapter will contain 100% less people crying. I hope.
> 
> Enjoy!

**EATONVILLE WELLNESS CENTRE - AUGUST 1, 1991 12:15PM**

As she left the SSR agent to wait in the hall and entered Maria's room, Pepper didn't know what she'd been expecting. She did know that it felt as though she were walking into a lion's den, which made the reality of the situation - a small, stark bedroom with few possessions or decorations and a large window overlooking the hospital grounds - underwhelming by comparison.

And then there was Maria.

Pepper had always had a very particular image of Maria Stark in her mind. She had envisioned a patrician woman with a warm, calming presence who balanced out some of Howard Stark's wilder qualities. That was how she was described in all of the biographies, and how she came across in photographs. In fact, Pepper realized that she had pictured the woman a lot like herself. After all, didn't most men seem to find themselves attracted to someone who reminded them of their mother?

Now, Pepper realized that this could not possibly have been further from the truth. The woman in front of her was none of those things. Frail, gaunt, and in clothes that were far bigger than her frame, Maria Stark looked like a woman haunted by demons. She was sitting on the bed, her head against the window with her knees drawn up to her chest and smoking a cigarette. Sadly, Pepper also noticed that the woman's shirt was on inside out and there was a dark bruise on her neck. Her stare seemed to look through Pepper.

"Do you have my books?" Maria asked.

"I'm sorry?" Pepper asked.

"The books. I told your fearless and noble leader to send them, but of course I never could tell him what to do, could I?" Maria replied.

It took Pepper a moment to understand what Maria was saying. The words were deeply confusing. Then, she remembered the conversation she'd overheard earlier in the day.

"Do you mean Howard, Mrs. Stark? He didn't send me. Although, I think he will be sending someone later with something for you to read. And laundry."

Maria just stared through her again. It was unnerving. She didn't ask who Pepper was.

"I'm Pepper. Pepper Potts. I'm friends with your son. He asked me to check in and make sure you were okay," Pepper finally said. It was a small lie, but she knew she couldn't exactly tell the truth. If she did, the woman might think she was the crazy one.

"You're a liar," Maria said. "And you're too old."

"Excuse me?" Pepper asked.

"Anthony would never send you. He doesn't care. He doesn't even know who I am. I died when he was born. I'm just a ghost to him. And even if I weren't, you're much too old for him. Why do you care?"

Pepper was unsure what to say or do. She realized that she hadn't thought this through. She had no idea what would happen if she said the wrong thing.

"I care because I care about Tony," Pepper finally said. "I know that you think I'm too old for him, but I love him. I worry about him. You're right that I lied. He doesn't know I'm here. I needed to meet you so that I could understand him."

Maria laughed bitterly. "Do you think you can understand him? I don't. Even when he was a baby. Especially when he was a baby. He used to cry and cry. He never made any sense to me."

Pepper knew she should leave. This had been a mistake, and Maria was in no state to talk to anyone. But then maybe that was the point, wasn't it? She'd wanted to understand Tony, to get a glimpse of what his childhood had been like. Had it been like this? Had he spent it trying to make sense of a woman who wasn't in her right mind? Pepper decided to push forward.

"Was it hard for you, then?" Pepper asked. "He told me that you were very depressed after he was born."

"I told you, I died! I went away. I couldn't reach him," Maria said, angrily. "I couldn't touch him. My hands just passed right through him like he wasn't there. Like I wasn't there. Do you see me, right now?"

"I do," Pepper said. "I see you. I'm sorry for asking. I was just curious." Clearly, Pepper was upsetting the woman. She got up to leave, but Maria reached out and grabbed her hand, seeming to be almost startled when she succeeded in pulling Pepper back towards her onto the edge of the bed.

"No!" she said. "Stay! Please! I just..." The woman struggled to find the words, putting her cigarette out firmly in a nearby ashtray. "I want to get through to him. You know? Can you help me?"

The desperation in her eyes nearly broke Pepper's heart. She nodded. "Of course. What do you want me to tell him?"

"I..." Maria started, grasping for the words. "I don't have anything to say to him. What could I say, really?"

Pepper tried to help. "That you love him?" she suggested.

"I do!" Maria said, "I love him so much. Too much. More than anything. But I ruined him. I broke him and he doesn't want to hear about my love. It doesn't matter."

"I think it does," Pepper replied.

"No," Maria said. "He doesn't love me."

"I know that's not true," said Pepper.

"He doesn't! How could he? I threw him to the hyenas! I stood by and did nothing while they devoured him and laughed."

"I don't understand what that means," said Pepper. "But whatever it is that you did, I know that he loves you."

"He could have died," she said. "It could have killed him. I wanted to reach him, but I never wanted him to join me. It wasn't fair."

Pepper was upset and frustrated by the things Maria was saying. The woman was making no sense, but she was clearly distraught. Pepper knew that she needed to get through to her. She needed this to be worth it.

"Maria," she said firmly, taking the woman's hand in hers and looking her in the eyes, "what happened? Can you tell me? How could Tony have died?"

As Pepper observed the woman and tried to comfort her, she saw a slight shift in her demeanor, a clarity in her eyes for a moment.

"There was this woman," Maria finally said. "I needed someone. Someone to keep Anthony away from me, to make him be quiet. God, he was so... frustrating. He whined, and he lied, and he told stories, and he needed me all the time. It just never stopped. Howard didn't care. He had his company, and his bombs, and his beautiful trophy. That was all he ever cared about. And Jarvis was no help. Not ever. He turned my own son against me, and he hated me and my family. He just wanted Anthony all to himself. It wasn't right. So I hired this woman instead. Anthony didn't understand. He kicked, and screamed. He told me that she was evil and cruel, that I was evil and cruel, that she was poisoning him and that he would die if I didn't give him back what he wanted. I told him he was ungrateful. I shut him out in the cold where the wild animals could smell how weak and alone he was."

Pepper listened carefully, trying to separate out the woman's wilder ramblings and hear any truth in the story.

"Then he got sick," Maria finally said, her voice breaking "He got so sick. He was throwing up and sobbing and so pale. I didn't know what to do. I didn't know what was wrong with him. He'd been trying to tell me. For days he'd told me that that something wasn't right. I thought he was just angry at me. But then everything fell apart. He stopped breathing and suddenly the doctors were telling me that he might not make it and that woman was screaming at Howard in Russian and pulling out a knife and everyone was yelling at me and everyone was looking at me like they didn't know who I was anymore. She really was poisoning him. She really was cruel, and I allowed it. I didn't see it because I never wanted him. I never knew what to do with him. I'm a terrible person. I don't deserve his love. I deserved to die."

"No," Pepper said, sick to her stomach at the thought that Maria's story could be true. "Don't say that. You didn't know what was happening. You're just not well, that's all. You couldn't be there for him because you didn't know how to be. But he does love you. And he forgives you, Maria, I know he does. You're his mother."

"No," Maria replied, staring through Pepper once again. "I told you. I'm just a ghost."

* * *

 

 

**EAST HARLEM, NYC - AUGUST 1, 1991 1:05PM**

Tony knocked gently on Jarvis' apartment door, shifting nervously from foot to foot. He had no idea what to expect, and no clue what he was going to say to the man to explain his sudden reappearance in his life looking 23 years old than he should. He supposed he'd figure it out. He'd come this far, after all. He had to see it through. For Jarvis' sake.

He heard a shuffling from the other side of the door, but it didn't open. There was more shuffling, and then finally Tony found himself face to face with the man he hadn't seen since he was nine years old. But not quite.

There were the obvious changes that Tony had been expecting. He didn't have to crane his neck to look him in the eye. He was older, and didn't seem quite so imposing. But the other differences were much more upsetting. Tony had known before he'd decided to see Jarvis the toll that HIV and AIDS could take on someone, had done plenty of outreach over the years to those suffering from the illness, but seeing it's impact on the man he'd been so close to once was still a shock.

The man he'd known was tall, graceful and dignified. He'd always been clean and impeccably dressed, even when getting down to Tony's level to play in the mud or run around with him. He'd had an air of maturity and refinement about himself, but also a sense of fun and youthfulness. The man in front of him now was so worn down he could barely stand. He was unnaturally thin, and his skin had a gray paper-like quality to it where it wasn't covered in dark lesions and bruises and a sheen of sweat. His eyes were sunken in and his hair was so pale and thinned out that it gave him a slightly ethereal appearance. This was a man at death's door.

"Hi Jarvis," Tony said sadly.

He looked at Tony, confusion in his eyes, but also heartbreak. "Is this a joke?" he asked.

"No," said Tony desperately, not wanting the man to slam the door in his face. Not that he'd even be able to in his weakened state. "It's not a joke, I promise. It's me. I know I'm a bit older than you were thinking, but please listen..."

"I don't understand," Jarvis said, nearly falling over. Tony was quick to catch him, shutting the door behind himself while wrapping an arm around the man's shoulders and guiding him into the living room and onto the tattered couch.

"You can't possibly be the man I thought you were," Jarvis said. "God, I'm so stupid. Are you here to rob me, then? Take what you want, I won't fight you. I have nothing worth anything anyway."

"What?" said Tony, disturbed by his old friend's complacency, "No, I'm not here to rob you. I didn't lie. I am Tony Stark. I'm just from the future, that's all."

From his prone position on the couch, Jarvis laughed. This laugh wasn't as joyful as the one Tony had heard earlier. It was bitter and broken. "You're from the future? Do you expect me to believe that?"

"Yes," said Tony, settling into a chair. "I do expect you to believe it. Because you always believed me when I told you things. No matter how crazy they sounded."

"Did I?" Jarvis asked, sounding resigned.

"You did," Tony chuckled to himself as he remembered. "You believed me when I told you that I'd built a working circuit board that could run a computer at the age of four. You believed me when I told you I could make the toaster cook eggs, which was probably a mistake, by the way. And I don't know if you necessarily believed me when I told you that someday I would be a superhero who could travel through time, but if you didn't then you were so good about it at the time that I may have taken it a little too far."

Tony watched with satisfaction as Jarvis' eyes almost bulged out of his head and sat up slightly to examine Tony more carefully. There was a moment where Tony wasn't sure if he was about to be hugged or thrown out.

"The circuit board story you could have figured out. Howard Stark rather liked to brag about it to anyone who would listen," Jarvis said. "And what little boy didn't want to be a superhero when they were little?"

"Then how do you explain how I know about the toaster incident," Tony said. "I could give you more details, if you want. Tell you about how mad my dad was at you for encouraging me when the smoke alarm went off. Or how amused you were when I told you that technically I was right because I never promised the eggs would be edible."

"You always did think you knew everything," Jarvis said, coming around to the idea that the man in front of him was the same little boy he'd taken care of all those years ago.

"Yeah," said Tony, "I did."

"And now?" Jarvis asked. He didn't wait for an answer. "How old are you, Tony?"

"44," Tony replied.

"44," Jarvis repeated. "That makes me feel so very old. I can remember when you were just a little boy who I used to be able to carry in my arms. You'd ask me to check under your bed for monsters before you could go to sleep and make me cut the crusts off of your sandwiches. You look good for 44, though. Certainly better than I look right now," he gestured to himself.

"You look alive," said Tony. "That's good enough for me. And I still have people cut the crusts off of my sandwiches. The crusts make the texture all weird."

"I'm dead, then? Wherever you came from?" Jarvis asked.

"Did you really think you wouldn't be?" Tony asked.

"Of course not," Jarvis said solemnly. "Did you see me at all, then, before it happened? The proper you, I mean. The one off studying at MIT right now."

"No," said Tony, unable to lie. "I didn't."

"Did you know at the time? That I died? The circumstances of my death?" Jarvis asked.

"What's with the twenty questions?" Tony asked, uncomfortable with the morbidity of the man's line of questioning. "I don't really want to talk about it."

"Well, you did come here," replied Jarvis. "I'd assumed that it was precisely what you would want to talk about. Especially now that I know that you apparently had to break the laws of time and space to make it happen. Isn't it why you're here? You're not curious?"

"About what?" Tony asked.

"About this!" Jarvis asked, pointing to himself angrily. "About my sexuality. About why your parents decided to fire me. About the things in my life that I did to have it end up this way."

"No," Tony said. "I'm not curious about any of that stuff. Because none of it matters. Not to me. I just wanted to spend some time with you. To let you know how much you meant to me and..." Tony got choked up thinking about it "... and to say goodbye the way I never got to."

Tony felt terrible because now he'd upset the man. That hadn't been his intention when he'd decided to do this.

"And no," he finally continued. "I didn't know at the time that you had died. I never looked you up because I wasn't sure if you even remembered me and a part of me was still angry at you for leaving. And when I did, and I found out what had happened, I was disturbed by the way you died. But not because you died of AIDs. Because you died in a one room apartment in East Harlem with nobody who cared about you and you were buried in a rundown cemetery without anything to even mark the spot. And I let it happen." He gestured to the room around him. "Because I was too petty and small and scared of being rejected to pick up the goddamned phone and figure out what happened to you when I had the chance."

Now they were both crying. "I'm so sorry, Jarvis," Tony said.

The man moved slowly off of the couch and came over to Tony, bending down to pull him into a crushing hug. "No, I am," he said. "This is my fault, not yours. I shouldn't have brought it up. I suppose I'm just feeling a bit sorry for myself right now."

Finally he pulled away and settled back down on the couch, wiping his eyes with his shirt sleeve. They settled into a more comfortable silence.

Finally, Jarvis spoke. "Now," he said, "explain yourself. I know that somehow you're here in front of me but do you really grow up to be a time travelling superhero of some sort?"

"Sure do!" said Tony. "And it's one hell of a story, actually." He excitedly launched into telling it.

* * *

 

 

**SSR BASE - AUGUST 1, 1991 12:05PM**

Natasha turned to observe Steve as he walked into the communications room, Peggy Carter following behind him. It didn't escape Natasha's notice that the pair were holding hands. She wasn't looking forward to the conversation that she would have to have with the man later. There was no way that this was going to end well for anyone.

He spotted her among the SSR agents and technicians in the room frantically tuning radios and calibrating video equipment and stepped towards her, eyes still scanning the room. "Where's Pepper?" he asked.

"She had something she needed to do," Natasha replied. Steve nodded, understanding that he'd be filled in on all the details later.

"Any progress?" Steve asked.

"None so far," Natasha said. "Although there's apparently some sort of garbled video signal that's coming through that they think they may be able to fine tune to give us a picture of the scene."

As she explained it, there was a shout from one of the technicians as one of the video screens suddenly displayed a somewhat clearer picture of the Arctic base. It was very red, and still blurry. They could see shapes moving, but they didn't appear to be human. "What the hell?" Steve asked, as the picture suddenly shifted again and a hand could be seen adjusting the camera lens. A red hand.

Then, an eye could be seen and the camera pulled back to reveal a face Steve knew all too well. The Red Skull! He grabbed Peggy's hand again firmly and the pair backed up slightly, unpleasant memories returning at the sight. Every person in the room's eyes were glued to the screen and the room had gone completely silent and still.

"Hello to the SSR!" the man on the camera said in a pleasant tone, pleased to be speaking to them. "You may remember me. I certainly remember you, even though it has been many years since we have fought against one another. As you can see, I have taken over your remote base." The camera panned to show the many dead and mutilated bodies that littered the room he was in.

"Of course, I have not done this alone. I have brought some reinforcements with me." Now, a pan to show various disgusting looking alien creatures shuffling around the room, completing various tasks.

"I am sending you this message so that you understand the seriousness of what I am about to request. So that you see what I am capable of. You will send a group of your best agents on a plane with the Tesseract. They will arrive by midnight tonight.

You may be asking yourself why you should do this? I will tell you. You may have something that I want, but I also have something that you want."

The camera panned a final time to a sight which shocked everyone in the room - an operating table upon which lay the defrosted body of Steve Rogers. He was unconscious and being attended to by a human doctor and several of the alien creatures, various tubes removing his blood and fluids.

"If you do not send me the Tesseract as I have requested, I will kill Captain America once and for all!" The Red Skull laughed maniacally and the video signal cut out again.

Steve's blood ran cold as he thought about his own body laying on that table. "This is bad," he said to Natasha.

"Very bad," Natasha agreed.


	20. Chapter 20

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Bruce may have made a terrible mistake, Steve puts on his Captain America mask, Natasha formulates a plan and Tony's sick of people being disappointed in him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another chapter!
> 
> I'm not really sure about this one. There's a few plot points in it that I hope make sense, so please let me know. You guys have really provided me with some fantastic feedback and comments, which I love, so thank you so much! 
> 
> We are finally reaching the endgame of this story. I've finally got all my elements in place and I'm excited to bring the entire thing home to what I hope will be an exciting and appropriately climactic finale. Not that many more chapters now! :D

**STARK MANSION - AUGUST 1, 1991 1:15PM**

Howard fidgeted and bounced up and down on his toes as he observed Bruce trigger a gamma burst into the converted Project Rebirth capsule containing the Tesseract. The burst was focused and precise, and was created using modified x-ray equipment Howard had ordered delivered from one of the Stark Industries medical laboratories.

Once he'd had some coffee and sobered up, the emotional exhaustion left over from the morning had faded. He'd then found himself with a restless energy that he'd dedicated to piecing together the necessary equipment with Bruce to properly study the Tesseract's ability to impact and generate a trandimensional energy field.

Howard had been impressed by the designs for the gamma radiation generator and monitoring equipment that Bruce had already been working on prior to being interrupted. Even though Bruce had been fairly quiet since their earlier conversation, he had been quick to credit Tony with the equipment design. It had made Howard very proud. The designs were extremely innovative and demonstrated an incredible skill at improvising using available materials. Howard's mind reeled as he realized the level of complexity and attention to detail contained in the plans. And they had been put together in just hours! It would have taken Howard months to come up with anything even remotely close to what Tony had accomplished.

It had cheered Howard up greatly to hear from Bruce that even twenty years from now Tony's designs would still be considered ahead of their time. Unfortunately, Howard then remembered that most of Tony's intellect went towards weapons design and Stark Industries. At that thought, it was as though his heart dropped down into his stomach. How advanced and terrifying were the weapons of the future thanks to his family? And was there really no way for him or his son to escape a legacy of so much death and destruction? It felt hopeless, and so Howard tried not to think about it and focused instead on the future that he hoped someday to get to see for himself. At the very least, maybe he could fix his relationship with the 44 year old version of his son and have that to look forward to.

Finally, the machine powered down and the pair waited patiently for the monitoring equipment to provide the necessary readings.

As they waited in tense silence, Bruce hoped that the data they gathered would finally be enough for them to understand what had gone wrong with Howard's initial experiment and allow them to open a new portal back to 2014. They needed to fix things, sooner rather than later. Even if, as Bruce suspected, the future that the other Avengers went back to would not include him.

Bruce had thought that once he had given his letter to one of the staff to drop off at a mailbox following breakfast that he'd be able to tell that something had changed. He'd imagined that maybe he'd vanish entirely from existence in 1991, and had at least hoped that he'd be able to feel the Other Guy leave his mind. But unfortunately not. He could still feel the Hulk on the periphery of his thoughts, ever vigilant for an opportunity to emerge and smash.

When he'd spoken to Howard earlier, he'd been tempted to throw caution to the wind with the man and let him call the younger Tony back just to see what happened. It couldn't be any worse than what Bruce knew he had already done to their original timeline. But he knew he still had to be careful. His stomach churned as he thought about the possibility that he had already put the destruction of the entire universe in motion. However, what upset him even more was the thought that maybe he hadn't accomplished anything at all. After all, if his plan worked then technically he should have changed things already and prevented himself from becoming an Avenger. Why did the Hulk still exist? Shouldn't he remember receiving the letter? Maybe his letter would never reach it's destination anyway for some reason and the action had been pointless.

As the monitoring equipment began spitting out data, Bruce tried to push the guilt, nervousness and hope out of his mind and focus on ensuring that no matter what happened, he got his friends back to where they belonged.

* * *

 

 

**SSR BASE, DEBRIEFING ROOM - AUGUST 1, 1991 2:15PM**

In the packed SSR debriefing room, Steve let his mind wander as Fury continued to outline all of the information currently available related to the Red Skull's appearance at the Arctic base. For almost two hours, Fury had been explaining to the assembled agents the few details they had regarding when the SSR had lost contact with the base, the identity of the human doctor assisting the Red Skull, and how Howard Stark had been experimenting with temporal portals using the Tesseract. Steve tried to pay attention, but he couldn't help but think about Peggy, sitting next to him. He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye and thought about how warm her hand felt clutched in his. How straight her posture was and the determined look in her eyes as she took in every word Fury was saying. How terrified she had looked when she'd seen the Red Skull's familiar face on that screen.

He felt a pang of guilt as he remembered that this should never have happened. She should never have had to face that particular demon from the past again. When Steve had taken the Valkyrie down all those years ago he had pictured Peggy listening in on the other end of the radio and his last thought before the ice had engulfed him had been that at least he'd taken Johann Schmidt out with him. At least he'd ensured that Peggy and everyone else who he loved would be safe. Now here he was, having failed her, failed them all once again. Steve knew from experience that life wasn't always fair, but he still couldn't help but feel a burning rage building inside his chest. He had sacrificed so much! He had always done the right thing! And what had it ever gotten him? Wasn't it enough that he had lost everything once without the universe deciding that he had to lose it again?

But then Peggy looked over at him and smiled nervously and his rage melted away. She loved him. And she was here now. He needed to protect her. The Red Skull was back and needed to be stopped. Steve Rogers might be angry, but Captain America had a job to do. Later, when it was over, he could spend hours working through the strange combination of ice and fire he was battling with internally against a punching bag or whatever villain the universe decided to throw at him. But right now, he needed to focus.

He looked over at Natasha, who was standing in one corner of the room observing the scene silently. She caught his eye and he could see a silent message in her eyes. They had worked together long enough that he could read the nuances of her body language and expressions without thinking about it, so when she jerked her head in the direction of the door to indicate that she was planning to leave to contact the others he nodded in understanding. She slipped out without anyone in the room commenting, although Steve was certain that Fury had to have noticed.

He took a deep breath, clutched Peggy's hand a little tighter, and tried to bring his mind back to what Fury was saying.

* * *

 

 

**SSR BASE, OFFICE - AUGUST 1, 1991 2:20PM**

Natasha slipped quietly into the first empty office she could find. She'd listened patiently as Fury had outlined what the SSR knew about the events at Fort Eureka, but she knew she needed to alert the others. If the Red Skull's presence in the Arctic really was linked to the Tesseract and their arrival in 1991, it could impact the work that Bruce and Tony were doing to get them home. She was also disturbed by the image of the defrosted Steve Rogers laying on a surgical table, his blood and fluids being used for nefarious purposes without his awareness. Things were quickly escalating out of control. She hoped that the two geniuses would be able to provide answers and that together with Steve they could come up with a plan to stop Schmidt and get home while minimizing further complications.

She dialed the receptionist and requested to be connected to Stark Mansion. It was a member of the mansion's staff who answered, and it took a few moments for Bruce's calm voice to finally arrive on the line.

"Natasha," he said.

"Bruce," Natasha said back. "We've had a development on our end that complicates things. How close are you and Tony to coming up with a way for us to get home?"

"I'm close," said Bruce. "Howard and I are working on it, but..."

"Where's Tony?" asked Natasha.

"I don't know," said Bruce. "That's the thing. Howard figured out who he was, so he took off. I haven't heard from him."

Things were going from bad to worse. "But you and Howard are close to a solution?" she asked.

"Sort of," said Bruce. "There's a problem, though."

"What kind of problem?" asked Natasha.

"From everything Howard and I have been able to theorize, we should be able to open a temporal portal that could potentially direct us back to our own time," Bruce explained. "However, in order for there be any precision around where we end up, a similar event needs to occur on the other side."

"So," Natasha asked, trying to understand, "We need someone in 2014 waiting with the Tesseract to open a portal there at the exact place and time we want to return to?"

"That's right," said Bruce. "And even then it's not a guarantee."

That wasn't reassuring. However, Natasha quickly realized that there was a way for them to accomplish what they needed, even if it was messy. "I can arrange that," she said.

"You can? How?" said Bruce.

"Think about it Bruce," Natasha explained. "There are people here at the SSR who we can guarantee will be around when we need them to be. And who can keep a secret, even one this big."

"Fury?" Bruce asked. "Natasha, that's dangerous."

"I know," Natasha said, "But can you think of a better option?"

Natasha could almost see Bruce's tense expression as he breathed deeply to try and think through another solution. "I can't, unfortunately."

"Besides," said Natasha, "I doubt it will be the biggest risk to the timeline that we've created being here."

"You said there was a development?" asked Bruce. He almost didn't want to know.

"A big one," Natasha replied. "The portal that pulled us here? It also drew the Red Skull out of whatever dimension he ended up in after his last confrontation with Steve on the Valkyrie. He's in the Arctic right now. And he's got the current Steve Rogers body."

Natasha heard Bruce drop the phone in surprise and fumble to pick it back up again. "Bruce?" she asked.

"I'm here," he finally replied. "I just... that's a problem."

"It is," said Natasha, "And not one that we can ignore." As she thought about it, she realized exactly what they would need to do. "We'll have to face it head on."

"What?" asked Bruce. "Natasha..."

"We can't let the Red Skull survive in this era, Bruce," Natasha said. "You know that. And we also can't send a small army of SSR agents into a guaranteed slaughterhouse. This is exactly the kind of situation that we're trained to handle. Schmidt wants the Tesseract in exchange for Steve's body. And I say we give it to him. Will you and Tony be able to generate the portal on our end from the Arctic if you have to?"

"I can't see why not," said Bruce, "but there's still more work to be done before we're even close to that point. Plus, we have Pepper with us! And we don't even know where Tony is! He doesn't have a suit here! I don't know if this is a good idea..."

"We don't have a choice," Natasha said. "I'll talk to Steve. We'll both talk to Fury. We'll come up with a plan and do whatever we have to. Work with Howard. Try and find Tony. And prepare yourself to let the Other Guy out if need be. We'll be in touch, Bruce."

"Thanks, Natasha," Bruce said, hearing the line click dead and the dial tone begin. What was he going to do if the Other Guy wasn't there when they needed him?

* * *

 

 

**EAST HARLEM, NYC - AUGUST 1, 1991 2:30PM**

Jarvis had listened patiently as Tony told him the story of how he became Iron Man. Of course, Tony hadn't told the man the entire story. He'd left out the more gruesome parts of his time in Afghanistan, and he'd avoided telling him about Stane's betrayal or his slow poisoning. He wanted to make the man proud of him, not upset him. And he'd told the sanitized version of his suit's origins enough times to the press that the version he told now was actually the one that felt more natural for him to tell. He built weapons. He got kidnapped. He escaped through his own ingenuity. He decided to build a better suit to build a better world. It was an oversimplified fantasy, and Tony knew it, but one that made Tony feel better rather than worse because in this version, he was a hero.

By the time Tony got to the part of the story where he battled against Gods and aliens, Jarvis' eyes had significantly widened. Tony could understand that since it still seemed unbelievable, even to him. Finally, Tony explained how he had ended up in 1991.

"So there you have it," he said, "How I became a time travelling super hero. I swear it's the truth. I mean, could I have made that story up if I'd wanted to? Really?"

Jarvis contemplated that for a moment. Tony had expected the man to be impressed, perhaps scared or in awe. But the emotions that crossed Jarvis' face surprised him. He looked sad and a bit disturbed. "No," he said, "I supposed you couldn't have."

There was silence. Tony wasn't sure what to fill it with. Why was Jarvis looking at him like that? He'd just told him an amazing story that should have transformed everything he thought about the universe and he was looking at Tony like he'd just kicked his puppy.

"Is something wrong, Jarvis?" he asked. "Don't you have anything to say? I mean, I just told you that you helped raise one of the smartest, coolest badasses on the planet! That's gotta feel pretty good, right?"

And still Jarvis just looked at him. It was unnerving.

"Did you really take over Stark Industries?" Jarvis asked.

"I did," Tony said, confused by the question. "I mean, that's what I was always supposed to do. It's what my old man always wanted. Did you think I'd do something else?"

"I'd hoped," Jarvis said, and then immediately realized how it must have sounded. "I'm sorry..."

A feeling of hurt and rejection overwhelmed Tony. Wasn't he a hero? Hadn't he accomplished so much in his life? What more could Jarvis, or anyone, ask of him? He was so sick and tired of feeling as though he was a disappointment.

"Are you serious right now? What... because I took over my father's company, nothing I do is good enough for you?" he asked angrily. "Nobody seemed to have that much of a problem with Stark Industries or it's morality when my old man was running it! I just did what he wanted me to do! What everyone wanted me to do! You don't get to judge me or the choices I've made!" he said rising up from the couch to pace restlessly.

"That's not what I meant," Jarvis said. "I just..." He didn't seem to be able to find the words he wanted. "Tony, you just told me a story about how you spent three months in a cave with terrorists and a car battery in your chest! And don't think I don't know that there's more to that story then you told me. There's got to be! You told that story like it was a badge of honour. Like it was something you were proud of."

"I am proud of it!" Tony stated.

"Why? You're proud that you redeemed yourself after years as a shallow, morally bankrupt playboy?" Jarvis asked, harshly. "Don't get me wrong, I do think it's wonderful that eventually you managed to figure things out, but it doesn't change the fact that you just told me that you wasted your gifts and your genius for years on nothing! On destruction and death and misery! Forgive me if that makes me profoundly sad for you, Tony, and if I don't think it's something you should be bragging about."

"I am trying..." Tony said, upset and not understanding why this argument was happening.

"I know you are. I can see that, Tony, and it upsets me," Jarvis said. "You shouldn't have to be trying so hard now to make up for things. Things could have gone so differently for you..."

"Where the hell were you then?" Tony asked, venom in his voice. Jarvis didn't get to talk to him about who he should have been. Not after everything that had happened. "If you think I could have been someone different, someone better, than why the hell did you let this happen, huh? You left me!"

"Don't you think I think about that, Tony?" Jarvis asked. "I think about it every day. Every moment that I'm sitting here wasting away wondering if my death will mean anything to anyone! Every time I turn on the television or open the newspaper and am confronted with news about the Stark family! You meant everything to me. You were the only worthwhile thing I was ever a part of.  I never wanted to leave you."

"Then why did you? You abandoned me, Jarvis. I was alone! You were my only friend, the only one who cared. Without you, I had nobody," Tony screamed. "Did you know that the woman my mother hired after you was a psychopath who tried to kill me? She was Russian and thought she could get revenge on the American government through my father and get to him through me. It wasn't the last time that happened either! Do you have any idea the shit that you left me to deal with once you were gone?"

"I'm sorry," Jarvis said, "You have to believe me, Tony. I let you down. I know I did."

"Yeah," said Tony, "You did. You're right. I could have been someone different. I know that. I fucked up. But I look back and I don't know what the hell else I could have done. I did what everyone wanted me to do. I did what everyone told me was the right thing." Tony's fingers balled into fists and his face went red with rage. "Don't you want to be just like your father, Tony? The company can't survive without a Stark at the head of it, Tony. Don't you want people to like you, Tony? You're smarter than this, Tony. You're better than this, Tony. I just don't understand why I'm still the goddamned bad guy! What else do I have to do to get people to..." Tony cut off before he said something that he'd never be able to take back.

There was a suffocating silence in the room as the words Tony had left unsaid rang out in both men's minds.

"I love you, Tony," Jarvis said and Tony felt something inside of him settle at the words. "No matter what you've done in your life, nothing changes that. I'm not disappointed in you. I'm sorry if I gave you that impression when you finished your story. What you're doing, your work on your arc reactor and your decision to stop creating weapons, is very admirable. I was mad at myself more than at you. You're right. I did leave you. I let your mother fire me and I didn't fight back."

Tony calmed down. "I didn't mean to get angry at you, Jarvis," he said. "It's just hard sometimes. My parents died. Soon, actually. And then I looked for you and you were gone. Everyone was. I didn't know what to do. So I did what I thought people wanted. And it just made things worse."

"Did it never occur to you to think about what you wanted?" Jarvis asked.

"At some point I think I confused what everyone else wanted with what I wanted," said Tony. "And I lost myself. I just became this guy who was going through the motions of being who the world decided he was supposed to be. A selfish, self-serving asshole."

"You seem like you've figured it out now though." Jarvis said.

"Have I?" Tony asked. "Who am I really, Jarvis? Am I Iron Man? Is that it?"

"No," said Jarvis. "You've got a good heart and an incredible genius and you want to use them both to do the right thing and make the world a better place. That was true the last time I saw you and it's true now. That's all you need to remember. Do you have anyone in your life, Tony? To remind you of that?"

The tension Tony had been carrying melted away and he sank back down into an armchair. He smiled to himself. "I do, actually. There's a woman. Pepper Potts."

"Your girlfriend?" Jarvis asked.

"Not anymore. But we're still close. And there are friends, real ones. Happy and Rhodey."

"Does anyone you know not have a nickname?" Jarvis asked, laughing gently to himself.

"There's you," Tony said, seriously.

Jarvis was confused. "I died, Tony. You said so yourself. I couldn't possibly..."

"Not actual you, like the person you," Tony clarified. "I sort of built an artificial version of you." Jarvis' head tilted in surprise. "That sounds really weird, actually," Tony continued, "now that I'm saying it out loud. But it's true. I have a computer that runs my life and my homes. I built him. I gave him your personality, or at least I tried to." Tony started to blush. "I also may have used the recording of The Hobbit you left me when you took that vacation to program his voice so that he sounds like you. It's creepy and obsessive and I am suddenly very ashamed of it. I'm sorry."

"Don't be!" Jarvis said, chuckling. "You really did that? That's nice, actually. I like the idea of existing in some form, even if it's not technically me. And you say this computer runs your house? Protects you and cares for you? I think that's rather fitting." He smiled.

"It's not just JARVIS the computer," Tony said. "There are other bots too. Dummy. You. Butterfingers. I basically made myself some friends. For when I couldn't pay them." Tony was embarassed.

"More terrible nicknames," Jarvis laughed again. "Am I the only one who's never picked one up? I'm glad for that."

The pair settled into a more comfortable silence.

"It sounds like you actually have a lot of people in your life who love you, Tony." Jarvis said. "What about the other Avengers? Do you get along with Captain Rogers? I remember a certain little boy asking me to reenact the good Captain's comic book adventures quite often. It must feel good to be able to meet the man and call him a friend after all these years."

"It is," Tony said, and it was true. He smiled as he thought about it. "And it's not just Steve. The other Avengers are all my friends. Which is pretty cool, considering one of them is the God of Thunder. I should call them actually. I didn't exactly tell them where I was going when I left to come here. They're probably wondering where I am. We were kind of in the middle of something."

"Of course," said Jarvis, "There's a phone over in the corner. Did you want a coffee then? Or a tea?" He rose and moved over to the small kitchen against one wall of the apartment.

"Coffee, thanks," said Tony, as he dialed the mansion.

Jarvis moved slowly as he put the kettle on and put on a pot of coffee. He was exhausted, although seeing his former charge again after all these years had reinvigorated him somewhat. It was better to feel sorry for himself with company than feel sorry for himself without it. He hummed to himself as he prepared their drinks, overhearing Tony's vague half conversation going on across the room.

"Yep ... Wait, what? ... Are you kidding me? ... That's great! ... "I can't do that ... I'm not exactly prepared ... Yeah, of course ... Right away ... Okay, thanks Bruce."

By the time Jarvis brought Tony his coffee the conversation was over. He looked anxious. "That sounded urgent," Jarvis said. "Is anything wrong?"

"A lot of things, actually," Tony replied. "I have to go. But I don't want to leave you..."

"You have to do what you have to do, sir," Jarvis said, sadly. "I'll be okay."

"No," said Tony, "You won't. Come back with me to the mansion."

"I couldn't possibly..." Jarvis said.

"You could too. There's a wheelchair near your front door. I've been telling you all these stories about building the Iron Man suit and me being a hero. You're at death's door, Jarvis, so don't you think it'd be appropriate to live a little? Don't you want to see me in action?" Tony asked.

"In action?" Jarvis asked.

"Yep," Tony replied excitedly. "The Avengers are assembling."


	21. Chapter 21

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Steve and Natasha decide that some things are more urgent than protecting the timeline and ask Fury and Peggy for help, and Bruce and Howard are reunited with Tony and his new old friend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so I do apologize that it's been awhile since I last updated. I was too busy becoming WAY too invested in Agents of Nothing now that it's gotten so awesome, and seeing Captain America 2 (which was so unbelievably good that I still cannot believe it - my high expectations were not only met but surpassed)
> 
> However, I was pretty upset that Winter Soldier basically annihilated several things about this fanfiction and made it way, way AU. So, check the tags. This fic is officially non-compliant with Phase 2. I was considering trying to make it make sense with Iron Man 3 or Thor 2, but that's out the window now. At the end of this chapter, I will include a spoiler-laden note regarding the ways in which this fic is not going to be compliant going forward.
> 
> Anyway, please continue to enjoy this now AU story! :D

**SSR BASE, DEBRIEFING ROOM - AUGUST 1, 1991 3:05PM**

It didn't escape Steve's notice when Natasha re-entered the briefing room with a sense of urgency in her posture as Fury was wrapping up the exhausting debriefing. She looked over at him and he knew she had news. Clutching Peggy's hand, he looked her in the eye with a confidence he didn't feel and nodded to the door to let her know that he needed to slip out of the room. He was surprised when she didn't let his hand go, but instead stood up to follow him.

Together, they exited into the hallway, Natasha quietly following them.

"How are things back at the mansion? Any progress?" Steve asked, checking to see that they were alone.

Natasha seemed weary of having Peggy present to overhear their conversation, but she decided to leave it alone for the moment.

"Some," Natasha replied. "Bruce said that they've got a working machine ready, however they've run into a problem. In order for what they've built to have any chance at actually getting us home to the right time and place, somebody needs to open a portal on the other side. Otherwise, we're taking a pretty big risk of ending up someplace worse."

"Well, there must be a way around that, right?" asked Steve. "Maybe we, I don't know, leave the machine somewhere when we're done with it and try and leave word for Clint or Thor somehow? Is that even possible?"

"Leaving word for Clint or Thor may be a possibility, but it's not a certainty," said Natasha, "And I don't know about you, but I'd rather bet on a sure thing if I'm going to hurl myself into a inter-dimensional portal. Besides, there's still the matter of the Red Skull to deal with."

"You're right about that," said Steve. "We definitely can't leave the SSR to deal with him alone. Who knows what could happen. Especially given that I'm a part of this now. This me, I mean." Steve shivered slightly as he thought of himself lying on a surgical table at the Red Skull's mercy.

"Right," said Natasha. "So we need to go with what we know. We need to stop the Red Skull. And we need to get home. Preferably we need to do both at once. Bruce assures me that if we can get out to the Arctic, they can transport the machine and open the portal there. The way I see it, there's only one person who can help us."

"Who?" asked Steve.

"Me," replied a deep voice from the other end of the hallway. Turning, they realized that Nick Fury had been listening to their conversation, the debriefing session having wrapped up.

"And me," said Peggy, with a fierce look in her eyes.

"No," said Steve, shaking his head and staring the elderly woman down. "I don't want you involved in this, Peggy. It's bad enough that you're having to deal with all of this again, I won't put you in more danger than I have to. And as for you, Nick," he said, turning to face the man, "we've had this conversation. There's more at stake than just the SSR or the Red Skull here."

"But those are our priorities right now," said Natasha. "And he's the only one who we can count on for help."

"Damn right!" said Fury. "I'm not about to send my agents off to be slaughtered by that madman, and if you tell me you can do something about that, then I'll give you whatever you need. And if you deliver, then getting you home will be the least I can do to pay you back, even if losing Captain America again is the price."

"I'm in this too," Peggy said. "Don't shut me out, Steve. The SSR has been my entire life's work. I can handle myself. I don't need you to protect me and I want to help."

As the two SSR veterans stared at Steve, determined, he realized that he and the other Avengers didn't exactly have a lot of options. They needed to get home and put all of this behind them, and they needed to do it with as little impact to this time period as possible. He knew Peggy well enough to know that if he left her out of this, she'd find a way to stay involved. Her stubbornness was one of the things he loved about her, and he wouldn't change it for the world. He also knew that Nick Fury was a better ally than enemy.

"Alright then," Steve finally said. "It looks like we've got a lot to fill you both in on." He hoped he wouldn't regret this.

 

* * *

 

**STARK MANSION, NYC - AUGUST 1, 1991 3:30PM**

The workshop was eerily silent. The blue light of the Tesseract pulsed gently, illuminating the room and casting strange shadows as Bruce and Howard again triggered the gamma radiation into the smaller chamber that they had built to house the alien artifact. Smaller being relative. It certainly still wasn't portable enough to be easily transported to the Arctic or used in the middle of a battlefield. The pair had been hard at work, and had settled into a quiet but comfortable rhythm as they triggered the bursts, calculated the data once more, and then broke the machine down to attempt to improve it. There was a restless energy in the room. Both knew that they had to work quickly. The stakes were higher now.

Given that, it came as a physical shock to the pair when they heard the loud bell, followed by heavy breathing indicating that the intercom was on.

"Sir, you asked me to advise you when Mr. Hammer arrived back. He's currently at the front door with company. Should I let them both in?" the voice asked, which even Howard couldn't put a name to.

Bruce and Howard looked at each other in surprise. Howard stalked over to the intercom system in the wall and jabbed the button. "No, actually. We're going to come out and meet him."  
Howard turned to Bruce. "Company?" he asked.

"Don't look at me. I don't know where he went or who it could be," Bruce said.

"Well let's find out," Howard said, gesturing towards the door. "I could use a little light that's not creepy and blue anyway."

The pair walked out through the study and headed to the front door, curious. As they finally came within sight of Tony and his new friend who, Bruce noted, was clearly ill and in a wheelchair, Bruce continued walking but Howard stopped suddenly. As Bruce turned to see what was wrong, he could tell that something about the mystery man had shocked Howard. The man had gone pale, as though seeing a ghost. "Edwin," he said.

The man turned his head towards Howard. "Mr. Stark," he said. "I wish I could say it was a pleasure to see you again."

Bruce startled at the voice, which was so instantly recognizable to him, although not capable of being that venemous. Howard walked over to the man, and Bruce was surprised to see that he did so with none of his usual swagger or confidence. Tony caught Bruce's eye and waved to him with an apology in his eyes, both of them distracted by the reunion happening in front of them.

"Edwin..." Howard said, struggling to find the words he needed. "What... what happened to you?" He gestured towards the man's obvious weakened condition, upset.

"I'd rather not talk about it, actually," Jarvis said firmly. "I'm only here because your son asked me to be. He seemed to think I could be of some assistance. I can't see how, but he's always been ten steps ahead of me so I'm willing to trust him. You must be Dr. Banner," he said, looking at Bruce.

"I am," said Bruce, approaching and extending his hand. Jarvis didn't shake it, but instead looked at Bruce as though he was odd for having offered it. "And you are?" Bruce looked at Tony for an explanation.

"Bruce, this is Jarvis," said Tony.

"Jarvis?" asked Bruce, confused.

"Yep," said Tony.

"Like, actual Jarvis?" Bruce questioned. "He's not..."

"An android of some kind? Seriously? Yes, Bruce, I somehow managed to time travel back to the future, retrieve my AI's coding, build a cybernetic body that's clearly ill, get back to the past and then somehow transfer my AI's consciousness into it in the last few hours. I respect that you think that's something I could do, but you're nuts. This Jarvis is the very human man who raised me, and who I used to form the fundamental personality of the JARVIS you know."

"Right," said Bruce, taking off his glasses to rub the bridge of his nose. "Because that makes just as much sense."

"Not at all," Jarvis said in a teasing tone, "But of course this is Tony we're talking about. I stopped expecting him to make sense from almost the moment he started forming words."

"Which," Tony said, "I would just like to point out was at only four months. That's how early I started being awesome."

"Yes," said Howard, looking from Jarvis to Tony with affection in his eyes, "It was."

Bruce couldn't help but shake his head and smile at that. However, Tony looked uncomfortable and the tension increased when Howard locked eyes with his son.

"Dr. Banner," asked Jarvis, "I'm thinking that I could use a bite to eat. How about you?"

Bruce appreciated that the man wanted to give the two Stark's a moment alone to talk in private. "I'd like that."

"Good," said Jarvis, wheeling towards him. "While we're at it I can tell you a few rather embarrassing stories about exactly how awesome Tony was when he was too young to even go to the bathroom on his own and was still terrified of the Easter Bunny."

"Oh, Jarvis that's not fair!" Tony yelled at the pair as they left the room. "Don't you dare humanize me to my friend! He'll start to think we're equals!"

Finally, father and son were alone.

They stood together in silence for a moment, awkward. Tony shuffled from one foot to the next. Finally, Howard spoke. "I have a few things that I feel like I need to say to you."

"Good," said Tony. "Me too."

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ***** SPOILER ALERT ****
> 
> For those of you wondering about how AU this fic will be, going forward, please expect: 
> 
> \- no explanation of how Thor managed to retrieve the Tesseract so easily or why he went back to Asgard
> 
> \- a completely non-Hydra related explanation related to Howard and Maria Stark's death
> 
> \- a completely Hydra-free SSR (not SHIELD yet) to continue to exist as it does in this story so far
> 
> \- a non-Alzheimers suffering Peggy Carter to have a very different (hopefully not as depressing) fate from what we saw in Winter Soldier
> 
> \- a very non-dead Nick Fury to obviously continue to be still in charge of SHIELD in the present day
> 
> \- an arc reactor to still be present in Tony Stark's chest, which still powers his many Iron Man suits
> 
> Also, HAIL HYDRA!


	22. Chapter 22

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Tony and Howard talk, Pepper arrives back at the mansion, and Tony is so done with all the drama.

STARK MANSION, NYC - AUGUST 1, 1991 3:45PM

"So..." said Tony.

"Right..." said Howard, fidgeting.

Neither man wanted to be the one to go first. Finally, they both spoke at the same time.

"I don't know what I did..." said Howard. "I'm sorry for the things I said..." said Tony. They both stopped when they realized the other had started.

"Let me go first," Howard said. "I need to say some things that I should probably have said to you twenty years ago from your perspective, but which I clearly didn't say which I apologize for. I didn't say them not because I didn't want to say them, but because they would have caused time to explode which you are now just realizing, obviously, and which I am now going to have to live with. It sucks, but it is what it is and I accept that. But just let me say it, because you've been waiting long enough to hear it, yeah?"

Tony, so very rarely speechless, could only say "Okay" back, gesturing for him to continue. He waited patiently while Howard gathered his thoughts.

"Right, good," Howard said. "I don't really know what I did to screw this up. I think I'm only just now starting to figure it out." He gestured to himself and Tony. "Honestly. I know that's not what you want to hear. You probably have a whole list of things you hate me for. I get it. I just really didn't mean for it to happen, which probably means nothing to you at this point.

I know I haven't been around much these past few... well, your whole life really. I've always been focused on the company, and on making sure that the legacy I hoped I'd leave for you would mean something, that the danger I put you and your mother in would be worth it.

I guess it didn't help that at a certain point I also couldn't really deal with being around your mother anymore. You're old enough now that I feel like I can confess that to you. It was just too hard. And sometimes, you were just so much like her. Even now, I can see it when I look at you. Passionate. Strong-willed. Angry. It was easier to keep you at a distance, I guess. Easier to focus on the things I could control and fix than the things I couldn't.

It just disappoints me so much to know that you and I aren't close, and that the thing I was running away from I was clearly wrong about. I can see now that you're actually a lot like me. Too much like me, I think. Running Stark Industries. Hanging out with my old friends. Working with the Tesseract, even. I don't know what to do with that information." Howard shook his head, at a loss.

"You could be proud," Tony said. "Being like you's not so bad. I used to think I'd never live up to your example, but now here you are telling me it's true. It makes me feel good, and feel pretty shitty for hating you all these years for thinking I was never good enough."

"Is that it?" Howard said, "You know your friend Bruce is a smart cookie. He pegged it. He told me that I cast a long shadow and that you lived your life in it, but I don't get that at all. Why the hell would you want to be me? Do you know that call me a death-monger? A baby-killer, and a war criminal? Actually, I'm pretty sure you know that. I bet they call you those names now too, huh?"

Tony laughed to himself at that. He'd have to have a chat with Bruce later about what exactly he and his father had talked about while he'd been gone. "My favourite's the Merchant of Death. Although nobody's called me that in a while."

"See, you're laughing but it's not fucking funny. Because you could have been so much more than that. You're so smart, and you always showed so much promise and you wasted it doing exactly what I did, figuring out new ways to slaughter people."

"Excuse me?" Tony yelled, getting angry. "What the fuck? Are you fucking kidding me? That is so goddamned hypocritical that I don't even know where to start with it! You don't get to judge me for taking over your fucking company!"

"No, I get to judge you for not wanting more for yourself!" Howard yelled back.

"More?" Tony asked, "More than what? More than the respect and admiration of the world? More than the billions of dollars that your company makes every day? More than your name in the history books for all eternity, hailed as the man who saved America in it's darkest hour? How could I possibly want more than that? Or even dream of achieving it, still?"

"That's not who I am!" Howard said, firmly.

"Maybe not, but what the hell does that matter?" Tony replied. "The world certainly thought it! Even right now, for every article being written about the burning oil fields, there's a senator waiting to pin a medal to your chest! For every crackpot protester trying to blow up one of your factories, there's a returning soldier thanking you for saving his life! I get what you're trying to say. Believe me, I get it better than anyone. I had to learn the hard way that the lessons I took away from your life weren't accurate. But this person, standing in front of me... it's not the man I saw growing up. I wish I'd met this man then, that you'd been around. But all I ever saw was the hero."

"I'm nobody's hero," Howard replied.

"Yeah, well, you were mine," Tony said. "Not that you ever seemed to notice."

"What does that mean?" Howard asked.

"It means that all I ever wanted was to work for you. To work side by side with you. To contribute to Stark Industries and show you what I was capable of," Tony said. "I wanted to get to know you and you pushed me away. You rejected me, and now you're standing here telling me that it's my fault for loving you in the first place, you fucking asshole!"

"I wasn't rejecting you," said Howard. "I just didn't want you involved with what I do for a living. It was dangerous enough for you growing up around it without me putting you in the middle of it!"

"Really? Because it felt like you didn't want me around. I got two degrees by the time I was seventeen, and was graced with your presence for a brief half-hour appearance at my graduation to take photos before you were gone. I created so many prototypes for you that you had your company reject without even reviewing, that you wouldn't even look at. I wasn't even asking you to put me in the weapons divisions. You could have put me in the R&D labs for the medical, chemical or even agricultural divisions and at least I would have at least felt like I was proving something."

"You didn't need to prove yourself to me, and you certainly didn't need Stark Industries to do it," Howard said. "I wanted you to do what you wanted to do for yourself. To create something of your own!"

"Right," said Tony, "something that would live in the shadow of you and your company no matter what I did with it. That would have gone over so well for me."

"Well I hope you're happy," said Howard. "You took over my company and now you make weapons for a living. Good luck with that."

"Yeah, well you didn't even make that part easy," Tony said. "You left it to Obie, of all people. You're a great judge of people, by the way. Mom, then Obie. You know how to pick 'em. Although I guess you don't care, because in both of those cases I'm the one who paid for your choices."

"What happened?" Howard asked. "I knew I'd never leave you the company. I died, huh?"

"Everyone does eventually," said Tony. "And I had to fight for the company that should have been my inheritance. The only reason I even ended up in charge is because the shares took a dive without a Stark in charge of the company and the board got scared. Obie had no choice but to bring me in. And I don't make weapons for a living anymore, actually. Neither does Stark Industries because I took it in a new direction. Like I said, I did eventually figure it out the hard way. No thanks to you."

"You don't make weapons anymore?" Howard asked.

"Nope," Tony said. "So good on you for assuming that I do. Thanks for having faith in me."

"That must have gone over well with the board and the shareholders," Howard said.

"It did not," Tony said. "At all. But the company survived, so that's something."

"Yeah," said Howard, "It is."

The pair settled into an awkward silence as the anger in the room dissipated, but the tension remained.

"Tony," said Howard finally.

"What?" said Tony.

"I am proud of you. No matter what happened, or happens in the future. I want you to know that. If I'm disappointed in anybody, it's myself."

"You should be. You're a dick," Tony replied. "You left me with a lot of shit to deal with, and I think I've done pretty well for myself."

"Yeah," said Howard. "It seems like you have."

"I'm sorry I, the younger me, said those things on the phone this morning, by the way," Tony said abruptly. "I didn't mean them. And I've always regretted them. So yeah. Sorry. That's what I was originally gonna say to you before... well, you know..."

"Thanks," said Howard. "Now I know that you don't apologize for them sooner. Good to know not to expect that."

The awkward silence returned, however the tension began to dissipate as well before the pair were interrupted by the door bell. A staff member appeared from another room to answer the door, but Howard shooed them away, opening the door with a flourish.

"Hey, Red!" he said to the woman on the other side, whose finger was still hovering over the doorbell.

"Mr. Stark!" said Pepper, as Tony swooped in to grab her arm and pull her inside the house.

"Hey, right!" Tony said, "You two have kind of met, but not really, I guess." Howard watched with amusement as Tony began to re-introduce them to one another.

"Now that you know who I am, you should know that Pepper not only almost ended up your daughter in law but she is also currently the woman responsible for keeping your company afloat. I'd be lost without her. Pepper, my dad. Dad, Pepper. Again."

Pepper gasped as Tony gestured to her. "Tony! What... what the heck happened while I was gone? Hello again, Mr. Stark." She nodded towards Howard.

"A lot happened," Tony said, "I'll fill you in later. Me and my old man actually should probably get back to the workshop. Ooh, and I have to introduce you to Jarvis, Pep!"

"Jarvis?" Pepper said, very confused. "Tony, I actually have to talk to you," she said as he tried to drag her away.

"So, talk!" Tony said.

"No," said Pepper, "in private. It's important."

"Oh!" Tony said, dreading the conversation he suspected might be coming. "Right. Okay. Sure. We can do that." He finally slowed down.

He gestured to Howard. "Would you be able to give us a minute? Maybe go make sure Bruce and Jarvis are settling in okay?"

"Yeah," Howard said. "I'll just give you two some space."

"So," said Tony to Pepper once his father had left the room, "we need to talk? I can't promise I'm not talked out today, but I'll do my best to listen." He grabbed her hands and entwined them in his. "Where's Steve and Natasha, by the way?"

"They're not here," said Pepper. "That's sort of what I wanted to talk to you about. I didn't go with them to the SSR today. I went to visit your mother."

"You what?" Tony asked.

"Tony, I-" Pepper started to say, but he yanked his hand away from hers.

"What the hell, Pepper?" Tony asked. "Why would you do that?"

"Because I wanted to know more about you and her, and I just thought-" She was cut off again.

"You thought what?" asked Tony. "What sort of answers could that woman possibly give you in the state that she's in? How could you do that to me?" He started to walk away. "I can't do this right now. Not after the day I've had. Just... stay away from me for a while, yeah?" He left the room.

Pepper just sighed, wondering if he was right. She had betrayed his trust. Maybe leaving him alone was for the best.


	23. Chapter 23

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Tony once again finds himself drafting a suit on a pencil and paper out of spare parts, Howard expresses his homophobia and ignorance but then tries to redeem himself, and Pepper realizes Bruce is a sweetheart. Plus, Thor and Clint worry about the Tesseract.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so this chapter turned out loooong. But awesome! I'm happy about it, because it's got more of Howard being kind of awesome but also a dick, some Pepper-Bruce friendship AND concerned Thor, all of which were very fun to write.
> 
> Mind the homophobia, please, and Jarvis' self-loathing. It's meant to reflect the attitudes Howard Stark and Edwin Jarvis might have based on their backgrounds and the time period. It is not designed to offend anyone, nor does it obviously reflect my opinion in any way. Characters are gonna be who they are, and I can't stop them at this point.
> 
> Enjoy! :)

**STARK MANSION, NYC - AUGUST 1, 1991 5:30PM**

Tony tried to tune out the amiable scientific chatter going on between his father and Bruce and focus on the blueprints in front of him, but was finding it surprisingly difficult. As hyperactive as he knew he could appear to people, it wasn't actually usually that hard for Tony to focus, especially when Iron Man was involved. But he could feel his mind refusing to cooperate with him, his anxiety amping up. His palms were beginning to sweat and his heart was beating furiously in his chest, a panic attack looming. Why was this happening now?

Tony took a deep breath and tried to think. He was nothing if not methodical about everything, and managing his anxiety was no different. He’d had JARVIS point him in the direction of a few dozen texts, papers and journal articles on anxiety, panic disorders and PTSD following the Battle of New York and committed himself to learning to deal with his panic attacks. He’d learned that often if he could trace his anxiety to the source, he could control it.

As his pencil continued to scratch against the paper laid out on the drafting table his father had cleared off for him, the noise briefly took him outside of himself and he was able to pinpoint where the anxiety may have been coming from. It didn't make him feel any better.

His mind wandered to the last time he'd had to draft a suit with a pencil and paper out of scavenged materials. It hadn't gone so well for him. It too had ended with someone he cared about dying and Tony being able to do nothing but stand by and let it happen. The pencil snapped accidentally between his fingers as he gripped it with too much force, breaking him out of his own head.

He looked over at his father and Bruce, who appeared to have developed a strange friendship of sorts while he was gone. He listened as his father cracked a joke at Bruce’s expense and Bruce chuckled, bashful in the man’s presence. Two weeks. Two weeks until his father was dead, again. Less time than that until he was back in his own time and the man was twenty years in the ground. He hadn't handled the loss very well the first time. God, what was the second time going to be like?

"You alright over there, kiddo?" Howard asked. "You look lost. Do you need some help?"

Howard left Bruce’s side to come over and look at Tony’s blueprints from behind, putting his hand on his shoulder. Tony tried not to deal with the fact that his old man just called him kiddo and was touching him so affectionately. Memories he hadn't thought about for years rushed back to Tony in a flood and it was all he could do to keep himself together.

"You know," Howard said after a moment, examining Tony’s work, "you still haven’t told me what you’re building. It must be good if you plan to take on Schmidt with it. That guy’s a maniac."

"Yeah…" said Tony, wishing he could be anywhere else."Could you not do that?"

"Do what?" asked Howard.

"Touch me like that," Tony said. "I just... I'm not a big fan of people touching me, usually."

Howard removed his hand. "Right," he said, moving his hand as though he’d been burned. "Sorry." He continued to peer over Tony's shoulder. "Is that the vent tubing from the M7 you’re using for the launch mechanism on that missile? Do you think that tubing can handle those kinds of temperatures?"

"I know it can," Tony said, taking a bit of comfort in the topic turning to his plans. "The alloy used in the M7 vent tubing can withstand temperatures up to 2450 degrees Fahrenheit." He went back to his sketching, trying to control his breathing.

"Damn," said Howard, "I forgot that you've always had a crazy memory for specs. I can never remember that stuff off-hand."

"Yeah, well, Eidetic memory. Besides, the M7 was one of my babies," Tony said, "which means I could give you the tolerances and measurements of every part in the thing to multiple decimal places if you asked."

Tony continued to work, but his father didn't leave. He just stood there. "Is something wrong?" Tony asked.

"The M7 is one of yours?" Howard asked.

Tony realized his mistake. He sighed and put his pencil down. "Yeah. I hate to break it to you, but most of the new gear being rolled out to the troops in the Gulf is mine, actually. Obie arranged for me to work on some stuff for R&D under a few assumed names because we knew you’d never approve."

"He what?" asked Howard. "That’s… Why the hell would he…?" He was at a loss for words.

"I told you I needed to prove myself." Tony said to defend himself. "I needed a way to make you see what I could do, that I could contribute. I was planning on telling you, I just never got the chance to!"

"It’s not you I’m mad at, Tony," said Howard, looking completely defeated. "You were right. Apparently I’m the world’s worst judge of character. Christ, how could I have let this happen?"

"There’s nothing wrong with wanting to see the best in people," said Bruce quietly from across the room. "We've all made that mistake at one point or another, Howard."

"Yeah, well in my line of work I should know better," said Howard.

Tony snorted in derision. "You should? If you knew half the crap I've been through..."

"Tony…" Bruce said, a gentle warning in his tone reminding him not to say too much or upset Howard further.

"People suck, is all I’m saying." Tony said. "And if I beat myself up every time I realized someone was an asshole, I’d never be able to get out of bed in the morning."

Howard just stared at his son, looking lost. After a brief moment, he shot towards the workshop door. "I need a break. I’m starving. What do you guys say? Food?"

"I could eat," said Bruce, moving to join Howard. "Tony?"

"No," said Tony, "I’m good." He went back to his drafting, glad to be alone with his thoughts and his panic. When he heard the grinding of the workshop doors closing and knew the pair had left the room, he slammed his head down onto the desk and groaned. How was he going to get through this? And at the end of it, with everything that had happened, what would he even be going back to?

 

* * *

 

**STARK MANSION, NYC - AUGUST 1, 1991 5:30PM**

  
As Pepper entered the mansion’s expansive dining room, her stomach rumbling, she was surprised to find an older gentleman in a wheelchair, sitting at one end of the long table. She knew she recognized him from somewhere, but couldn't place where and noted that while she was startled by him, he looked completely at home in the room and was chatting with one of the staff.

He noticed her enter as the anonymous staff member slipped quietly out of the room. "You must be Miss Potts," he said, "Were you out in the gardens then? They’re lovely, aren’t they?" Pepper couldn't help the gasp that escaped her lips. She knew that voice. Intimately.

"They are," she said. "You’re Jarvis. Tony mentioned you, but I hadn't thought…" she said.

Jarvis smiled at her warmly and chuckled to himself. "So you’re another one used to me being a mere voice in the walls, then? I imagine it must be rather jarring to suddenly find yourself faced with me when you’re used to dealing with a super-intelligent computer. I must seem like such a disappointment in comparison." He gestured to himself.

"No," said Pepper. "Not at all. I’m sorry. Tony didn't exactly explain before he left and got caught up in his work. Who are you?"

She stepped towards the table, curious, and he held out his hand.

"Edwin Jarvis," he said warmly. "I cared for Tony growing up. Still do, actually, in spite of myself." As she shook his hand and examined him carefully, she realized where she’d seen him. He was older now, and obviously ill, but he’d been the man in the picture in Tony’s bedroom. Of course. She smiled to herself.

"You'll have to forgive me, Mister Jarvis," she said, taking a seat next to the man. "Tony never told me that he based his A.I. on a real person. It shouldn't really surprise me. He talks a lot, but he tends to keep the important things to himself."

"Well that’s alright," he said, "Although I don’t know if that’s true because he’s told me quite a lot about you, Miss Potts, and nothing but wonderful things."

Pepper blushed. "Yes, well, we’ll see if that lasts."

"Ah, yes," Jarvis said, understanding. "I imagine that your being here has been a bit difficult for him."

"No," she said, "He’s actually been handling it very well. It’s me. I’m the one who doesn't know what to do. I’m screwing everything up."

"How so?" Jarvis asked. "Maybe I can help."

Pepper realized suddenly that maybe Jarvis was the person who would really be able to provide her with the answers she was looking for. She then immediately felt bad for thinking that. Prying into Tony’s childhood without his permission was what had gotten her into trouble in the first place. And she certainly would never have felt comfortable asking the A.I. JARVIS these kinds of questions about Tony. The person Jarvis shouldn't be any different.

"I shouldn't really talk to you about it," she said. "Tony’s already upset with me for overstepping my boundaries."

"Of course," said Jarvis. "I think I understand. You’re curious. About all this." He gestured to the dining room around him. "I’ll assume that he’s chosen to live his life rather differently than his parents. At least I hope he has."

"Definitely," said Pepper. "This mansion and Howard have been… unexpected. After all these years, I thought I knew him but I’m realizing that I have no idea. He never talks about it, what it was like for him growing up. Everyone loves to speculate, and I guess I just always figured that his childhood was exactly how the press liked to paint it. That he grew up with everything, and everybody loved him and that it was as simple as that. Spoiled little rich boy. It was easy to assume that when I first met him, and I realize now that I never stopped. I never even really thought to ask. Why wouldn't I ask? What does that say about me?"

"It says that you’re a trusting person," Jarvis said, "and that he constructed a personality for himself that he wanted people to see because it was easier than dealing with things. He told me as much. This whole smug self-destructive playboy business lets him keep people at arms length, Miss Potts. Because people hurt him, myself included."

"Well, I'm sure that can't be true. How could you have hurt him?" Pepper asked.

"I left," Jarvis replied.

"Why?" she asked, unable to help herself.

"Because of me," said a voice from the entrance to the room. Howard leaned against the doorway, listening in on their conversation. "Don’t mind me," he said, "I just came to get some food." He walked past them into the kitchen.

"Hey," said Bruce awkwardly from where he stood waiting for Howard to return, giving them a small wave.

The room went quiet for a moment.

"Is that true, Mr. Jarvis? Or was it Maria?" said Pepper, remembering her conversation with the unhinged woman.

"It was my decision," Jarvis said.

"How can a firing be your decision?" Howard said returning to the room with two plates of food and setting them on the table.

"We both know it wasn't as simple as that," said Jarvis. "Although I’m sure you were glad to be rid of me."

"No, I wasn't, actually," said Howard. "I wasn't glad at all to find out that the person I trusted in my home, with my son, the person he loved, was a liar."

"I didn't lie about anything!" said Jarvis, upset.

"Oh, you didn't?" said Howard, angry. "Okay, let’s call it a lie by omission. Same difference."

"It most certainly was not!" Jarvis yelled. "I didn't tell you because what on Earth would I have said, and why would it have been any of your business anyway?"

"Why would it have been my business? Oh, I don’t know?" said Howard sarcastically, “Why would it have been my business that I was allowing someone into... that... around my son?"

"Whoa," said Bruce, holding out his hands trying to make peace before things got out of control, "What are we talking about here. Howard, you’re not talking about…"

"Yes, I am talking about… that… as a matter of fact." Howard couldn't even say the word. "What was I supposed to do? Just ignore it."

"You could have!" Jarvis said, "I’d thought we were friends. I served your family for years, and I was never anything other than loyal and devoted to you. You could have trusted that I would never let the way I chose to live my life affect my job caring for Tony."

"Well, see now we’re right back to it, aren't we?" asked Howard. "How could I have trusted someone who was deliberately dishonest with me and sneaking around behind my back? How could you be a role model for Tony when you're practicing things that are... immoral?"

"Immoral? Sneaking around? Is that what you think?" Jarvis asked, hurt.

"That’s a terrible stereotype, Howard," said Bruce, disappointed. Pepper just shook her head at him.

"Please," said Jarvis, "I wish it was as simple as believing in a stereotype, Dr. Banner. But that’s not why you think that, is it Howard? I know you. You’re smarter than that, except when it comes to one person. What exactly did Maria tell you?"

"Don’t-" said Howard, but Jarvis cut him off.

"Not the truth, I’m sure. She knew. Did you know that? I wasn't about to tell you, but she figured it out. Primarily because I refused to respond to her drunken advances. And I'm the immoral one who's sneaking around?"

Howard shot towards the door, upset. "This is not a conversation that I’m having with you, especially not here in front of everyone, Edwin. What is wrong with you?"

"What is wrong with me is that you've never wanted to have this conversation! Not with me, not with Tony, not with anyone. And believe me when I tell you, Howard, that the things you regret the most as you near the end are the things left unsaid. Continue believing what you’d like, but just know that you can’t fix everything or everyone, and eventually your time runs out and you’re just left with a broken mess. I’m sorry, Miss Potts, Dr. Banner. I hadn't meant to put you in the middle of this. I’ll leave." He wheeled out of the room.

"I…" Howard started to say, but thought better of it and left, leaving a confused Pepper and Bruce behind.

"Edwin!" Howard yelled, walking quickly to catch up with the man whose wheelchair slowed him down.

"What do you want?" Jarvis asked, continuing to move away from the man.

"I’m sorry," Howard said, walking alongside him. "About everything. I never meant for any of this to happen. I just…"

"You love your wife," Jarvis said. "Or the woman you married, at least. And she’s ill. I know that. I remember what things were like before Tony was born too, Howard. But you can’t keep burying your head in the sand and pretending everything’s fine. Not still, after all these years."

"Was it just you? That she…" Howard didn't want to continue the thought.

"I don’t know," Jarvis said softly. "There was nobody else that I ever saw. And she felt terrible about it, afterwards, when things were a bit better."

"And she really knew? That you were… you know." Again, another sentence he couldn't bear to finish.

"She did," Jarvis said. "She was angry at first, but then she told me it didn't matter who else I loved or how I loved them, that I loved Tony like he was my own son and that was all that mattered. I believed her at the time."

"Then why would she tell me? She had all these stories about times you’d brought men to the house and things she’d heard you say when you were alone with Tony. God! I’m such an idiot." Howard rubbed his hands over his face, frustrated. "This is my fault."

"I don’t blame you, Howard. Or her. I blame myself." Jarvis said. "I was the one who didn't stand up for myself when I had the chance."

"No," said Howard, "I acted like a jack-ass. I should have known that something was wrong."

"You weren't around to know," said Jarvis, harshly. "And it wasn't my responsibility. I loved Tony, but things had been getting worse with Maria for a very long time. She started to feel threatened by me, and declared war. And I surrendered without a fight. I thought it would be for the best. I was worried I’d become too attached. Maria probably worried the same thing."

"Not without reason," Howard said. "That kid loved the hell out of you too, you know."

"I know now," said Jarvis.

"How could you ever have doubted it? Do you remember when you had to go home for a month when your sister died? He was completely miserable. I slept at the office that entire time in terror of him. Four of the staff quit. He literally held his breath until he turned blue and passed out at one point. Boy, that kid… when he wanted something…"

"I remember. Did you know that he called me at my sister’s house and made me sing his goodnight lullaby to him? My entire family was staying in the house at the time, and he kept asking for Jarvis but didn't know my first name!" Jarvis laughed to himself. "It happened three days in a row. There I was, in front of everyone, singing a children’s lullaby into the phone. On the third day, my brother-in-law politely answered the phone and told him we were in the middle of a wake and that I wasn't available and hung up on him. I hadn't even left the number. I still don’t know where he got it from." Suddenly he couldn't stop laughing, and Howard joined him.

"Oh boy. He was something else, wasn't he?" Howard asked.

"Was? Still is!" said Jarvis. "You should hear the stories he has. I’m surprised Miss Potts’ hair is still red and not completely gray from dealing with him. I can only imagine."

"Yeah, well… no thanks to me," said Howard.

"No thanks to either of us," said Jarvis. "But he’s brilliant still, in spite of it all."

"Yeah," said Howard. "He is."

There was a lull in the conversation, but the tension had dissipated. "So, you’re really near the end, huh?" Howard finally asked, sadly.

"Suppose so," said Jarvis.

"You know I didn't really mean those things I said, right? Well, mostly. I'm not one of those people who thinks that you deserve this or anything like that. Christ, I can't even apologize without putting my foot in my mouth! I’m so sorry, Edwin,” said Howard.

"Stop saying that. I hate that," said Jarvis. "Sorry doesn't do anything about it. Just don’t waste the time you have, Howard. That’s all." As Jarvis looked at the man, he realized that based on what Tony had told him, Howard had even less time left than he did. He hoped the man took his advice to heart.

"Right," said Howard. "I can do that. I’ll start by helping my kid work on whatever it is he’s working on that’s gonna rid the world once and for all of Johann Schmidt." He started walking towards the workshop. "You coming?" he asked Jarvis.

"I wouldn't miss it for the world!" said Jarvis wheeling up alongside him.

 

* * *

 

**STARK MANSION, NYC - AUGUST 1, 1991 5:45PM**

As Howard ran after Jarvis, Pepper could only look at Bruce, unsure what to do. "Well, that was-"

"Awkward," finished Bruce, entering the room and taking a seat in front of one of the plates of food Howard had left behind when he ran out. It appeared to a steak sandwich. Bruce wrinkled his nose in disgust.

Pepper, however, eyed one of the plates. "Not to your taste, Bruce?"

"I’m not exactly a steak kind of guy," he replied.

"Well, we can see if one of the staff can bring you a salad," Pepper said, looking around the room. "I hope you don’t mind if I dig in though. I’m starving." She walked over the doorway separating the kitchen from the dining room and flagged down someone on the other side, requesting a salad be made.

"So…" Pepper said, picking up one of the left behind sandwiches. She and Bruce didn't talk much, and she still wasn't sure what to make of the shy scientist, although she had a particular affection for the man ever since his alter-ego had saved Tony’s life. "You seem to be getting along well with Howard."

"Yeah," Bruce said. "It’s… well I’d like to say it was the most insane thing that’s ever happened to me, but we both know that’s not true. It’s up there, though."

"How are you…" Pepper tried to find the right way to ask the question. "How are you holding up? You know… anger-wise?"

Bruce cringed, and seemed to disappear inside himself at the question. "I’m fine," he replied. "In control, which is good. I hope."

"I think it's very good," Pepper said. "Not that I've experienced… that. But it’s good. Natasha said that you were struggling a bit, so I just wanted to ask."

"Right," said Bruce. "Hey, can I ask you something?"

"Sure," said Pepper. "Anything."

"It’s going to sound odd," Bruce said.

"On a scale of travelling through time to alien invaders coming through a portal in the sky, I doubt it’s even going to register, Bruce," Pepper said encouragingly.

"Right. Okay. Say Tony sent himself letter," Bruce said.

"A letter?" she asked. "To himself? Why would he do that?"

"I don’t know. Let’s just say that he did," Bruce said, "And say that he then called you and asked you to intercept that letter because he realized he didn't want to send it."

"Okay," said Pepper, not sure where the conversation was going. "He’s asking me to intercept a letter he sent to himself, in this scenario?"

"Yeah," said Bruce.

"Why? Why wouldn't he just throw it out when it comes?" Pepper said, “He would know what was in the letter since he sent it, wouldn't he?"

"Pretend it doesn't matter," Bruce said. "Pretend that he asks you to do it without knowing why. Would you do it? And would you bring it up with him at a later date?"

"I've done worse and more dangerous things for Tony in the past without knowing the reason why, so I would definitely do it," Pepper said. She saw that Bruce breathed a small sigh of relief.

"But," she continued, "there’s no way I would let him off that easy about it afterwards. I’d be too curious. In fact, I’d probably read it before I destroyed it to find out what I’d gotten myself into."

She could see Bruce’s anxiety rise again, and realized what Bruce was hinting at. She remembered Natasha’s words to her earlier. “Bruce is contemplating worse things,” Natasha had said.

"Did you send yourself a letter Bruce?" she asked, dreading the answer.

Bruce nodded. "I didn't think it would matter," he said.

"Wouldn't matter?" Pepper asked, upset. "Bruce, how could you think that! Tony loves you. I love you. You’re an Avenger. You’d really throw all that away?"

"Yes!" said Bruce firmly. "Absolutely, I would, Pepper. I know it’s hard for you to understand because the other Avengers, especially Steve and Tony, they chose this life. But I didn't. I didn't ask for any of this, and I can’t control it or prevent people from getting hurt because of me. I would sacrifice everything I have now in a heartbeat for a chance to have a normal life back. Can you understand that, Pepper?"

Pepper nodded. She remembered how terrified she had been when she first walked in on Tony in his Iron Man suit, when she realized the implications of what he was doing. Sometimes, like today, her life was very complicated because of his choice. And it was a choice, at least.

"But you regret sending the letter now?" she asked.

"The Red Skull is out in the Arctic right now. Lives are at stake, and the team may need the Hulk. I may not have chosen this," Bruce said, "but that doesn't mean that I want anything to happen to the others because the Hulk isn't there anymore."

"Who would you call?" Pepper asked. "Do you have someone who would be able to intercept the letter for you?"

"Betty," Bruce said softly, and Pepper’s heart nearly broke at the wistfulness in his voice. "She was my… well, in 1991 she was my best friend. We pulled a lot of all nighters around this time finishing up our education together. She’d be around and willing to do it, if I asked her."

"And if I asked her?" Pepper said.

"If you asked her?" Bruce said.

"Yes," Pepper said. "I’m assuming that you asked me what I would do if Tony sent himself a letter because you wanted to know what Betty might do. If you ask her, she’ll have a million questions. But if I asked her, if I called her and said that I’d accidentally sent it to the wrong Bruce Banner, or that I hadn't meant for you to ever see it, well she might not bring it up with you then. I could tell her that we knew each other growing up. It could be a secret shared between her and I. If she thought that, she definitely wouldn't open it."

"Do you really think so?" asked Bruce.

"I’m certain of it," said Pepper. "I can convince her. Do you want to do it now?"

"No," said Bruce. "She wouldn't be there. She always volunteered at the local nursing home in the evenings around this time."

Pepper smiled to herself at that. Tony barely even remembered her birthday most of the time, but Bruce remembered what Betty did with her evenings more than twenty years ago. It was too bad Bruce was the Hulk. Betty would have been a lucky woman otherwise.

"Okay," Pepper said. "Later then. We'll make this okay, Bruce. I promise."

She took his hand and smiled at him, and she was pleased when she got Bruce to smile back.

A member of the staff arrived with Bruce’s salad just as the entrance doors swung open and Steve entered. He wasn't alone.

"Well don’t you two look right at home. I’m glad to see that Stark’s being so hospitable," said Fury. "Too bad that it can’t last."

"Nick," said Pepper.

"Miss Potts. Bruce. This is Peggy," said Steve, gesturing to the woman beside him.

"Agent Carter," said Peggy firmly holding out her hand. "It’s a pleasure to meet you."

"You as well," said Pepper as Steve eyed the plate next to hers. "Is that a steak sandwich?" he asked. "Is anyone eating it? I’m starving!"

"Help yourself," said Pepper, so Steve sat down. Peggy and Nick continued to stand by the door.

"Natasha is just getting Tony and Howard now. We need to talk," Steve said, "All of us."

The room suddenly became crowded as the others all arrived. Tony was last to enter the room. "Well since we’re all here now," he said, "how bad is it?"

"Bad," said Fury.

 

* * *

 

**ARCTIC CIRCLE - AUGUST 12, 2014 10:55PM**

Clint sweat through his makeshift cast, causing his leg to itch underneath the bandages. There were far too many people crammed into the small meeting room, making the temperature unbearable, however Clint couldn't help but shiver. His entire body was on alert, his skin prickling and his hairs standing on end at the presence of the object sitting casually in the middle of the conference room table. The Tesseract. It was all Clint could do to keep his mind on the conversation in the room and not flash back to the period of time when the unknowable celestial object had held it's strange power over him.

He jerked himself out of his reverie just as the conversation seemed to be wrapping up, finally. "-don't care what the instructions say, Nick. You were there. You saw what happened!" Steve was arguing with Fury in his Captain America voice.

"I know what I saw, Captain," Fury argued back, "but I also know that Dr. Banner's instructions are very specific. The portal needs to remain open for the entire three minutes and not a second more or less. We may have witnessed them leave, but that doesn't mean that we have any proof that they all come back through in one piece."

"The director is right," said Jane. "We can't take the risk, Captain Rogers. If we shorten or lengthen the window, we risk one of the others ending up who knows where. Or a part of them."

"Wait," said Clint, "a part of them? Like the rest of them ends up here, but they're missing something?"

"Possibly," said Jane. "It could happen," said Erik at the same time.

"Gross," Clint said. "We definitely don't want that."

"Of course not," said Steve, shocked that Clint would think anyone would. "Fine. I understand, Dr. Foster. You've been studying the Tesseract and would know better than I would what could happen. I certainly don't want to tell you and Dr. Selvig how to do your jobs. We'll just need to find another way around the problem."

"I think we should take a break first, though," said Clint. "Break? Anyone?" He hoped the group agreed. They had been at this for hours.

"You're right, Clint," said Steve. "Let's take ten minutes. There's some coffee in the kitchen around the corner." It was all Clint could do not to try to sprint from the room on his broken leg.

Before he could reach the exit, he felt Thor wrap his enormous arms around him. "Friend Clint," said Thor, "may I have a moment of your time?"

"Yeah, buddy. Sure," Clint squeaked out, his breathing constricted by Thor's inadvertent grip on him. Thor realized and loosened his hold. "Could we do somewhere else though?" Clint asked. "This thing's giving me the heebie-jeebies." He pointed at the Tesseract.

"I know not of this illness you speak of, but if the Tesseract causes you pain, you only had to say something!" Thor said.

"I'm fine, really," Clint said, "I just really need a break from this room, okay?"

Thor nodded and assisted Clint with hobbling out of the room and into the office next door.

"What's up?" Clint asked when they were alone, leaning on a counter to take the pressure off of his leg.

"It's Steven," Thor said. "I have reason to be worried."

"Yeah?" said Clint, "That seems pretty obvious to me, Thor. I mean, the guy's been through the ringer. What happened to him? I still can't even wrap my brain around it."

"Indeed," said Thor. "Losing the woman he loves must have been very painful for him."

"Yeah, that's not the part I was talking about," Clint said.

"But it is the part I'm worried about," said Thor.

"Oh," said Clint. "Really?"

"We must ensure that he doesn't lose sight of our goal here today," Thor said. "He needs to focus on the safe return of our friends."

"C'mon, Thor," said Clint. "This is Cap we're talking about. Nothing fazes him."

"Ah, but love is different, Clint," said Thor. "When that portal opens, he'll get but a glimpse of his true love and it may be very tempting for him to lose sight of anything else and risk everything to be with her again. I know that someday I will be parted from my Lady Jane in much the same manner as Steven and his love, and I can only imagine the lengths that I would go to for more time with her when that happens. We must protect him from himself this night."

"Sure, Thor," Clint said.

"Promise me, Clint," said Thor, very seriously. "Promise me that you will keep your hawk's eye on our Captain when that portal opens and ensure that he fulfills his duty to our fellow Avengers."

"I promise," said Clint.

"Good," said Thor. "Because as much as I trust the calculations of our shield-brothers, I also know that in the end the Tesseract cannot be predicted or controlled. Chaos will follow in it's wake. It is our job to contain it."

"Great," said Clint, feeling like he might throw up. Could they please just get through this already? It had been a long, long day.


	24. Chapter 24

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Iron Man is back in action, with a little help from his friends and his dad.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back! Yay!
> 
> I know that this chapter is short - I was originally going to write a longer chapter, but then I thought about how long you guys have been waiting for this one and wanted to reward you with it now. So it's short, but proof that I'm still at it! I will finish this! I even put a cemented the final number of chapters - it is happening. The end is near.
> 
> Thank you all for your patience and wonderful comments, as usual. Expect another chapter very, very soon. (I will not make you wait another few months, I promise).

**STARK MANSION, NYC - AUGUST 1, 1991 7:40PM**

Howard gave a small wave to the driver of the Stark Industries truck as he pulled away. He hauled the large unmarked crate onto the dolly and headed back in the direction of the house. He had spent the last hour and a half signing for deliveries and moving the necessary parts and equipment his son had requested into the workshop for him. This was the last one. It was just in time, as Fury had arranged for the group to leave for the airfield in only twenty minutes.

It had delighted Tony when Howard showed him the secret elevator in the garage that he used for loading and unloading larger equipment. Seeing the surprise on his son's face made Howard's heart ache. Now that he knew how hard Tony had worked to impress him growing up, he hoped he had communicated to Tony how unworthy of that he was, and how proud he was. Howard never wanted to involve Tony in his business, but he knew now what a mistake that had been. His son was everything he had hoped he would be and more. Howard knew now that keeping him away from the action had been the wrong approach.

As the elevator lifted Howard and the final crate towards the workshop, Howard thought about the man currently in his workshop bent over a pile of bolts and wiring. It bothered Howard to think that this was the man his son became some day, and that this was the way it was and always would be. Howard didn't believe in fate or inevitability. He had fought too many battles, tinkered and experimented for too long working to make the world a better place, to believe that anything was impossible. To Howard, accepting that the man he'd met was his son and that his own son in this time was already lost to him felt like a surrender. He was a Stark. Stark men didn't surrender. But how could you ever hope to win a battle in which time itself was working against you?

It was this thought that was on his mind as the doors opened and he was confronted with the sight of the man in question all but hidden under a bulky metal armour. Only his head was uncovered. He was turning a wrench around a bolt on his leg, while Jarvis had stepped out of his wheelchair to screw in a piece on his chest. From the chest, Howard could see a soft glowing blue light, similar to that of the Tesseract. Where had that come from? What had Tony built?

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" Howard asked. "You're not intending to wear that into battle are you?"

"What, you don't like it?" Tony asked, "It's a bit clunky and not as attractive as I'm used to, I know. A little less Ferrari and a little more Knights of the Round Table. But it'll have to do."

From the other side of the workshop where Bruce was working on his Tesseract device, Howard heard a snicker.

"Are you insane?" Howard asked. He couldn't believe that the man was considering wearing such bulky and heavy armour in a close combat situation. "How are you expecting to even be able to maneuver in that thing? Or even move? I thought you were building a drone! What possible advantage could you being in this thing give you? It's suicide!"

"Suicide would be going into battle without it," Tony said. "You're right that this build is definitely not as agile as I'd prefer. Or at all. But, it does have a distinct advantage that a drone doesn't." Tony snapped a thick gray helmet into place on his head.

"Which is?" Howard asked. He could only stare at his son in disbelief. How could Tony think that a metal armour with no room for a power source that must weigh 500 lbs at least was a good idea? With the helmet on, there was no way he could even see!

"Its pilot," said Tony. As he said that, he nodded to Jarvis. The man turned a dial on a nearby control panel. To Howard's astonishment, there was a metallic hum and the blue light in the armours chest glowed a bright white. The armour rose several feet off the ground. From the armour's feet and hands, blue fire burned scorch marks into the workshop floor. It was impressive, but after a second Howard could hear Tony start to panic and and see him start to flail before the control panel began to spark. Jarvis worked frantically to turn the machine off, but the power surge forced Tony upwards and slammed him into the workshop ceiling. As the power cut off and the sparks turned to smoke, gravity slammed him downwards into the floor with a violent crunch.

Before Tony could even groan in pain and get the helmet off, Bruce had already rushed to his side to ensure he was alright. With Jarvis' help and a couple of screwdrivers, the pair began to pry some off the dented pieces. "I think Howard's right, Tony. You are nuts," he said.

"You think this is bad, Brucie? When we get back, I should show you the footage of me working out the kinks early on in the design of the Mark II. You'll want to have me committed."

Bruce and Jarvis helped Tony remove the individual pieces of the suit that would need mending and checked for any injuries. Howard, however, stood frozen to the spot. As the pair moved pieces away, they revealed a network of wiring more intricate than anything Howard had ever seen before. And all the wires and pieces connected to the glowing blue device at the centre of the armour. Howard could now see that a triangle stood out in the centre of the device.

"The power you'd need..." Howard said, realizing what he was looking at. "You did it!" He felt the need to place his palms on the table in front of him to keep from falling over. "The arc reactor." Tony's eyes shot over to stare at Howard.

"Wow," Howard said, in awe. "Can I...?" he asked, gesturing to Tony's chest. At the other man's nod, Jarvis and Bruce stepped aside and he knelt down to inspect the device more closely. "You figured it out," Howard said softly.

"Yeah," said Tony, "but I couldn't have done it without you." Howard looked at Tony in confusion. "Fury showed me your message," Tony explained, "from the Expo. It saved my life."

Howard could see real gratitude in Tony's eyes. It occurred to him how different this man was from the son he currently had. He had grown up. Howard felt like he had missed so much, and realized with certainty that it was because he was going to. A tear rolled down his cheek as he spread his palm out over the glow of the arc reactor. It's glow warmed his hand, and he realized that it was embedded into Tony's chest. He looked at the man with the question in his expression.

"Like I said. Life-saving," said Tony. "I'd rather not say any more. I'm okay though. Really."

Howard could only nod. "Better than okay," he said. "Amazing". He made sure to look Tony in the eyes as he said it and waited until he saw understanding in the man's eyes. He needed him to believe it. Finally, he pulled away.

"Well then," he said, looking at Bruce and Jarvis, "it looks like we've still got some more work to finish up. That control panel isn't going to fix itself. You also still haven't explained to me how you're planning on seeing what you're doing in that thing, even if you can fly."

"Ah," said Tony, "I was actually going to ask you about that. Do you still have access to the global Stark Star Wars satellite grid?" Howard nodded. "I'll need you to ensure that the network is available and provide the grid codes. I may be a hell of a pilot, but every good pilot needs someone on the ground they trust acting as air traffic control." He looked at Jarvis, and Howard understood. It was time to finish this.


	25. Chapter 25

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Betty Ross reveals feelings she didn't mean to and gives Pepper some things to think about, and Howard says goodbye to Peggy and Steve.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woo hoo! Another chapter! 25 of 35! (That's right - this fic that I started over a year ago and intended to only be 10 chapters is now just over two thirds done and over 60,000 words). For those of you looking for some action, it begins soon I promise - the battle against the Red Skull is going to be epic.
> 
> If anyone is interested, I was actually inspired by Guardians of the Galaxy to start another WIP (bad idea, I know, but the inspiration was there and the idea wouldn't let up). It's fun because it's completely different than this fic and is Loki-centric with lots of Guardians madness as well - it's called Loki of Knowhere, so check it out if you're interested. Don't worry, I will not let it sidetrack me too much from this.
> 
> Enjoy! The next chapter will be soon, I promise.

**TONY'S BEDROOM, STARK MANSION, NYC - AUGUST 1, 1991 7:50PM**

Pepper stared down at the scrap piece of paper in her hand, feeling the immense weight of trust that the person who gave it to her had placed in her. On it, there was a phone number written in an elegant scrawl with a name above it: Betty. It made Pepper sad to think that the phone call she had been asked to make may deprive Bruce of a chance at happiness with the woman. But, she knew that the fate of the entire universe could be at stake if she didn't follow through with her promise. So, she picked up the phone on Tony's bedside table and dialed the number.

As the phone rang, she stared in confusion at the overturned scotch glass and small puddle on the carpet that had not been there the day before. She wondered about how they had gotten there.

Finally, the ringing stopped and a voice came over the line. "Hello?" it asked.

Pepper cleared her throat, nervous. "Is this Betty Ross?" she asked.

"It is. Who is this?" came the reply.

"Ummm..." said Pepper, unsure how to proceed, "You don't know me. My name is Pepper Potts. I'm a friend of Bruce's?" The statement came out sounding like a question.

"Oh?" Betty replied, curious. "He's not here right now. He's gone out to get some food, but he'll be back soon. I can tell him you called."

"I actually didn't call to speak to Bruce, Betty. I called to speak to you," Pepper said. "I was hoping that you would do a favour for me."

"You want me to help? You don't even know me," Betty said.

"Oh, but I do. Bruce has told me wonderful things about you," Pepper said, scrambling to craft a story that the woman would believe. "He thought we'd get along. He told me that if I ever needed a favour I should call you. That you were one of the most reliable people he knew." Pepper cringed at her own terrible lies. She was worse at this then she thought she would be. She should have asked Bruce more about Betty first, but the man had looked so distraught just thinking about the woman that Pepper hadn't wanted to upset him. She was regretting it now.

"Bruce said that?" Betty asked. "Wait, how do you know him again?"

"We've know each other for years," Pepper said. "since we were children. I'm sorry to disturb you Miss Ross, I just did something rather silly and I was hoping you could help me, for Bruce's sake." Pepper decided to see just how much Betty cared about Bruce.

"Of course!" said Betty, "anything for Bruce! I'm just surprised, that's all. He's never mentioned you and he didn't tell me to expect your call."

"He doesn't know I'm calling you," said Pepper.

"He doesn't?" asked Betty, confused.

"No, see that's the thing. I sent him a letter. Of a very personal nature. If you know what I mean..." Pepper trailed off, hoping the woman would come to her own conclusions.

"A letter?" asked Betty.

"Yes, a letter. I wasn't exactly sober when I wrote it and mailed it," Pepper explained. "It says some things that could potentially make things complicated between us. I regret writing it and I need to make sure that he doesn't read it. I was hoping you could keep and eye out for it and intercept it for me."

"Oh," said Betty. "Of course. I can understand that. We've all done things when we've been drinking that we've regretted."

Pepper breathed a sigh of relief knowing that the woman had bought her story and would destroy the letter. Her relief was short-lived.

"Are you sure though?" Betty asked. "Have you thought it through?"

"What do you mean?" Pepper asked. "The letter is extremely honest and would make things horribly uncomfortable between Bruce and I. I would hate for it to ruin our friendship."

"As I said, I do understand that. I just..." Betty trailed off and Pepper could sense that the woman was collecting her thoughts on the other end of the line. "Bruce is a wonderful man. He's kind, and thoughtful. I want to make sure that by intercepting your letter I'm not destroying something that could make him happy. I don't want to speculate because he's never talked about you but are you so sure he doesn't feel the same way?"

Pepper didn't know what to say to that. She hadn't been expecting it. "I..." she said.

"I know Bruce," Betty interrupted. "I've know him for a long time. Watched him and puzzled over him. I know he can be a bit of a mystery. He's good at hiding his thoughts and emotions, but deep down he's a sensitive man. Things affect him deeply, more than most. You said that the letter you wrote was honest. Why is that a bad thing? If you felt the need to express your feelings to him, even if you were drunk, isn't it worth putting it out there and dealing with it rather than continuing to lie? I know he would appreciate the truth."

"He doesn't feel the same way," said Pepper, asserting herself.

"Even so, don't you owe him the opportunity to decide that for himself? To have all the information?" Betty asked. "It doesn't seem fair to me to ask me to just destroy something that isn't mine to destroy. Or to get involved in something that's none of my business."

Pepper knew that she needed the woman's help and was running out of time to convince her. "I'm married," she said, hoping that would do the trick.

"Oh!" said Betty, surprised. "Oh," she said again, understanding. "Well, that is a different situation then." Pepper could hear the sadness in Betty's voice. "I suppose it would only hurt Bruce to see it then. Even if..." she trailed off.

"Even if..." confirmed Pepper.

There was silence on the line for a moment. "Right..." said Betty, "I will intercept your letter then. I'd hate to see Bruce's feelings hurt," she said.

Suddenly, Pepper couldn't help herself. "Betty?" she asked, hoping the woman wouldn't hang up the phone.

"Yes?" Betty asked.

"You love him too, don't you?" Pepper asked.

"I don't..." Betty tried to say, but Pepper interrupted her.

"Are you sure about that?" Pepper asked. "It sounds like his happiness is important to you, and like you care about him a lot. More than just as a friend."

"Even if I did though, it doesn't matter," Betty said. "Bruce is..." she trailed off while looking for the right words and Pepper could hear the wistful sigh in her voice.

"Don't you think you should give him all the information and let him decide?" Pepper prompted.

Betty chuckled to herself. "I suppose we'll see, Pepper," she said. "Consider your letter destroyed."

"Thank you, Betty," Pepper said.

The pair said their goodbyes and the call was over. The dial tone was the soundtrack to Pepper's thoughts as she returned the phone to its cradle. Betty's words about honesty and allowing people the right to make their own decisions rang out again in her mind. She knew that what Betty accused her of what not dissimilar to what she'd done to Tony. She'd taken away his option to choose to tell her about his past, about his mother, when he was ready. She'd pushed him into having to share something that he may not have wanted to share with her ever, which was his right. She'd made decisions about his life and how he should live it for him, which was something she'd always done without thinking. And, to top the whole thing off, she'd taken advantage of him when he was vulnerable. She owed him a big apology. Maybe it wasn't a bad thing that they were about to be trapped on a long, possibly final, flight together.

* * *

 

 

**STUDY, STARK MANSION, NYC - AUGUST 1, 1991 7:50PM**

"No, thank you Joe," said Howard into the phone, "I realize that this is short notice so I really appreciate your help. Are you certain that the satellites we need will be available and off the grid for the time we need?" He listened for a response. "Fantastic. Thanks again."

Peggy watched from the study doorway as Howard finished up his call. The man was grinning with excitement and twitching from a combination of nervousness and adrenaline. She tried to remember the last time she'd seen Stark so energized. "Things are going well then?" she asked.

Howard looked over at her and smiled warmly, happy to see her. "Better than they have been in a long time," he replied.

"I can tell. I'm surprised though," she said. "You're not sad to meet your son like this? To know with such certainty what happens to him?"

"In the beginning, sure," Howard said, "but now in the end I think it was a gift really."

"A gift?" asked Peggy.

"A chance to put things right, even if it is decades too late. And to get to know him. Truly know him, you know?" Howard asked. "This way I get to see what I'm going to miss out on, at least, and fix what I can."

The wistfulness in the man's voice startled Peggy. It didn't sound like he believed he'd be around to see the future that Steve, Tony and the other Avengers were going back to. It worried Peggy. Steve hadn't told her what happened to Howard. She hadn't thought to ask. "That doesn't sound like the Howard Stark I know," Peggy said after a moment. "It almost sounds like you're surrendering to fate."

"No," said Howard, "this isn't a surrender. Not by a long shot. But if it were..." he trailed off, looking so sad it broke Peggy's heart. There was silence between them for a moment.

"You know me, Peggy," Howard finally said. "I've spent my whole life obsessed with the future. It was all I ever thought about and all I ever saw, to the point where I let the present pass me by until it became a past I couldn't escape from. I wanted to create a new world, a better world and leave a lasting legacy that would mean something. I couldn't do it. I realize now that it was never supposed to be me. But Tony... It's his future to live in, not mine, and I trust that it's going to be amazing because he's going to make it amazing. With or without me."

"With you, Howard," Peggy said firmly.

"Preferably, yes," said Howard, "but who knows at the end of the day? Screw fate, destiny, time, whatever, right?" He looked at her hopefully and she nodded her head in agreement. "Screw the past, too, while we're at it," he added.

"What's happened has happened and what will happen may or may not happen. But dammit, if I've learned anything today it's that the most important thing in the universe is happening right this second. And that thing is that Steve Rogers is here to say goodbye!" He waved over Peggy's head and she turned to see that Steve had, in fact, come up behind her and was waving back at Howard.

"Well, I never got to say it to you the first time, did I?" Steve asked Howard.

"No," said Howard, "you certainly didn't." Peggy moved aside to let Steve into the room and he went to shake Howard's hand, but was pulled into an affectionate hug instead. He seemed surprised, but then hugged back warmly.

"I'm sorry Howard," Steve said. "I know you looked for me."

"I did," said Howard, "but I don't regret it. You are alive! I wasn't wrong! Although, I'm sorry I pulled you here and caused all this. If anything happens to you..."

"It won't," Steve said firmly. "Didn't Tony tell you? We're the Avengers. Earth's Mightiest Heroes. The Red Skull doesn't stand a chance."

"Oh!" Howard remembered something with a start. "Don't go anywhere! I'll be right back!" He disappeared through the open workshop door. Steve threw Peggy an amused look before Howard reappeared with something familiar in his hands.

"Is that my shield?" Steve asked. "But how could you have it? It was with me in the ice!"

"Well, yeah. The original was," said Howard. "But while I was watching my kid build his crazy armour I remembered that you didn't have yours with you now. You can't go up against Schmidt without a shield! You're not you without it! So I whipped this one up for you. It's not vibranium, mind you, only reinforced steel. But it's something at least."

It was definitely something. Howard had painted it to resemble the shield Steve had left in 2014 sitting in his apartment in Stark Tower. He could feel the weight difference as he took it from the man. Regardless of the difference, he appreciated the gesture his friend had made. "Thank you, Howard," he said. "For everything."

"No, thank you," Howard said.

"For what?" Steve asked.

"For looking out for my kid," Howard replied.

"Oh, Howard, I don't have to look out for Tony," Steve said. "I couldn't even if I wanted to. He's not exactly the type to lean on anyone or ask for help with anything."

"Maybe not," said Howard, "but you're the type to let people lean on you and help without having to be asked. And I'm glad he's got you around. You're a good friend, Steve. To both of us, I'm sure."

"I try to be," Steve said.

"You are," Howard reaffirmed. "And you take care of my lady here, too, no matter what happens out there. If anything happens to her..." As he trailed off and looked at Peggy, Steve could see the years of friendship between the pair that he'd missed shining in the man's eyes.

"Nothing will," he promised.

"No, it won't," Peggy promised as well, "because I can take care of myself, just as I always have Howard."

"See, you say that every time Agent Carter," said Howard with a playful smile, stressing the formal title, "but I can think of more than a few times when you had to be helped out of a jam. I'll admit I'm old if you do! Ease up and don't get yourself killed, alright?"

"Well, if you insist, Mr. Stark," she replied.

Steve smiled at the pair but felt a familiar pang of loss as he realized that this was the last time he'd see them together. Or, in Howards case, at all.

At that moment, a clanking sound could be heard and Tony appeared, his armour heavy and stiff as he walked out of the workshop. He nodded at Howard. Behind Tony was Bruce, holding one of the two Tesseract devices that he and Howard had worked on in his arms. The other device remained in the workshop, waiting for whatever uncertain future would exist to open the portal from the other side.

"We're ready to go," Tony said. "Are you ready?"

"I wish I could say yes," said Steve, looking at Howard sadly, "but I guess we'll have to be."


	26. Chapter 26

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Howard makes a last move to protect Tony and make amends, and the team says their final goodbyes before heading to the Arctic.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaaaaah! I'm so, so sorry! I know that this chapter has been a long time coming. But here it is! So enjoy it!
> 
> I would like to promise that the next one will arrive sooner than this one, but I feel like everyone would just call me a liar because I said that same thing last time, but I'll say it anyway. The next chapter will arrive sooner than this one did. Take that however you'd like, but I mean it really!
> 
> Again, enjoy!

**OUTSIDE OF STARK MANSION, NYC - AUGUST 1, 1991 8:00PM**

Pepper watched quietly from the front porch of the mansion as teams of SSR agents assisted the Avengers with hauling equipment to the vans parked in the driveway ready to take them to the airstrip. Next to her, Peggy stared at Steve with a fondness that broke Pepper's heart. It was difficult for her to truly grasp that in a few short hours, if their luck held, she would be back in the year 2014 and the woman next to her would be gone forever. She reflected that everything would be different once she was home, but then again not really. The mansion itself was there in her own time, but everything would be covered by slipcovers and a fine layer of dust, a monument to the very moment she was currently standing in. She would go back to her normal life as the CEO of Stark Industries and Tony's ex-girlfriend, but this would have all happened too. It was confusing and upsetting to think about.

Her reverie was broken by a tap on her shoulder, and she turned around to see Howard Stark standing in the doorway grinning at her. He was trying to get her attention.

"Hey there, beautiful," he said. "Have you got a minute before we all say goodbye?"

She smiled at the man, and reflected on how similar he was to his son. They had the same sense of humour, sly grin and mischievous eyes. "Of course, Mr. Stark." She followed him.

"It's Howard," the man said to her, leading her deeper down the hallway and into the dining room. "I think we're on a first name basis given that, from everything I've heard at least, we're practically family. Business partners too, I guess, what with you being the future CEO of my company."

"I suppose so," she said.

Once they were alone, he turned to her with a serious expression. "Tony doesn't trust a lot of people, Pepper. He never has. Hell, he doesn't even trust me and I'm his father. Although how could I expect him to? It's not like I've earned it. I really can't blame him for that one."

Pepper was caught off guard by the man's confession. "No, I guess you can't," she said, confused.

"What I'm trying to say is that you clearly mean a lot to him," Howard said. "For him to open up to you about things, to let you run the company... I'm really glad to have met you."

"Thank you," Pepper said, sincerely.

He took her hands in his. "No," he said, "thank you. For being there for him. For keeping him out of trouble. Knowing..." Pepper was astonished to see the man break slightly and try to pull himself together again. "Knowing that he has someone like you in his life makes me happy." He reached down to a large metal suitcase on the floor and hauled it up onto the table."

"That being said," he said, opening the suitcase with a flourish, "I feel obligated to keep you in his life at least a little while longer." Pepper raised her eyebrows at the contents of the case, a complicated looking gun that would seem comically gigantic in her small arms. It didn't look like any weapon she'd seen before.

"Oh," she said, "Thank you, but I couldn't possibly..."

He cut her protests off. "It's a Tesseract gun," he said. "One of the ones we collected from Hydra. I've been working on reverse engineering their weaponry since the war, and had this one sitting in my workshop."

"Wow," was all Pepper could say.

"Yep," Howard said. "It occurred to me that you're the only one of the group who isn't exactly trained for this sort of thing. Going up against Schmidt is going to be dangerous. And you're going to be in that situation because of me. I figured I owed it to you and Tony to give you a way to protect yourself and keep him safe."

"I understand, but I don't even know how..." she protested again.

"It couldn't be simpler," he said. "You point it and you pull the trigger. It disintegrates the thing you're pointing it at into nothing."

"Howard..." she said again.

"Just take it," he said. "Even if you don't use it. I need to know that I did everything I could to help you, Pepper. Please."

She couldn't continue to argue with him looking at her with such a desperate plea in his eyes. "Of course," she said. "I promise you that I will take this and do everything possible to keep Tony safe." There was a brief moment of silence before she felt compelled to continue. "I love him, Howard. Sometimes I don't know why, and a lot of the time I wish I didn't, but I do. He means everything to me."

From the hallway, she could hear the sound of her name being called. Tony was looking for her.

"Thank you," Howard said again, closing the suitcase and handing it to her. She took it from him and went to find Tony. Before she reached the doorway, she glanced back over her shoulder to see Howard slumped over the table, a defeated man. She knew it was the last time she would ever see him, but that she wouldn't be able to ever look at Tony again without seeing his father there too. She kept walking. The future awaited.

**OUTSIDE OF STARK MANSION, NYC - AUGUST 1, 1991 8:15PM**

The equipment was loaded, and the Avengers were properly assembled in the driveway of the mansion, ready to head out. Tony had found Pepper, and there was no time left for further preparation. They needed to leave.

The mood was solemn and serious as everyone piled into the vans, crowding in alongside the necessary equipment. Tony took up a large amount of space in his armour, and would have preferred to fly to the Arctic himself, but knew that it was impossible. The suit was too crudely built and too clunky for a long flight.

Pepper sat next to him. He felt her grip his hand tightly and was glad he'd detached the gloves of the suit temporarily. Having her them with him was calming, but also terrified him. His mind was buzzing and the adrenaline pumping through him was heightening his anxiety.

Nobody knew what would happen once they went up against Schmidt and his army. Next to him, Tony could see Bruce leaning back attempting to meditate and regulate his breathing for the long trip ahead of them, and even Natasha looked nervous.

Just before the doors were pulled shut, Fury came into view. "Good luck," he said. "I guess I'll see you all on the other side."

"Guess so," said Steve. "But be prepared for a long talk afterwards. No more hiding, Nick."

"We'll see, Captain," he said. "We'll see."

Tony caught one last glimpse of his father standing on the porch. His vision blurred as a few final tears fell down his cheeks, and he desperately tried to pretend his imagination invented the man mouthing the words "I love you, son" as the doors closed and the van pulled away.


	27. Chapter 27

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Tony and Pepper need to have a talk, and Steve wants Peggy to be safe.

**SOMEWHERE OVER CANADA, AUGUST 1, 1991 - 9:05PM**

Tony fidgeted with, then reconnected the wiring on his right gauntlet, hoping that nobody else would notice that he had no real need to be working on it. It was the only thing he could think of to do to calm his nerves and distract from the tense atmosphere onboard the small plane, with the Avengers plus Peppery, Peggy and three SSR agents crowded in like sardines and each lost in their own thoughts. The uncomfortable silence was broken only by the shudders and groaning of turbulence outside the plane.

As the ground underneath them trembled and vibrations shook the air, Pepper put her hand to her mouth and looked like she might be sick. Tony couldn't take it anymore. He reached out and took her hand in his unarmored one, and put his second armored hand on her back to steady her. "I'm so sorry, Pep," he said quietly.

"It's okay, Tony. You have nothing to be sorry for," she said queasily.

"No," he said, and resigned himself to the talk with her that he knew he needed to have. "It's not okay. It's never been okay. I'm not okay and we're not okay and I don't know what to do about it."

Pepper straightened up slightly and looked at him and Tony knew that she was steeling herself to break his heart. "Maybe," she said sadly, "you're okay but we're not, Tony. And maybe that's just the way it is and there's nothing we can do about it."

"I love you so much," Tony said.

"I know you do," said Pepper. "I love you too. But I think that it's just not meant to be that kind of love." The look in her eyes was final. He'd seen it before, and he knew better than to challenge it but he did it anyway. He had to try.

"I'll tell you everything," he said desperately. "From now on. No holding back. You can have all of me there is to have. Please."

"No, Tony," she said. "That's not who you are. It doesn't come naturally to you, and I'm tired of feeling like I have to play the role of the nag or sneak around to get what I want out of this relationship. You're my best friend, but I can't be all you have anymore Tony. And I can't keep relying on you to be everything to me. It's not fair to either of us. I need to move on. And so do you."

"What if I can't? I don't want to be alone, Pepper, but I can't let anyone in and I drive everyone away. My mother. My father. Jarvis. Obie. Why do I keep doing that? What's wrong with me?"

"Oh," said Pepper, overwhelmed with sadness. "Don't you see? It's not you. Tony. What Obie did was horrible, but it wasn't your fault. You know that right? Please tell me you know that."

"Pep..." he replied but she cut him off. "And your father and Jarvis were never anything but proud of you," she continued. "You could see it just from the way they talked about you. They understood."

"My mother hated me," Tony said. "You met her, Pepper. You saw. What kind of kid drives their own mother to the nut house?"

"She didn't hate you," Pepper said. "She didn't understand you, maybe. She didn't know what you needed or how to be a good mother but she never hated you. She loved you more than she was ever able to tell you. Her illness had nothing to do with you, Tony."

"Maybe," Tony said, but he didn't sound as though he believed her.

"She did," Pepper said. She reached into her purse and pulled something out. "She gave me something she wanted you to have, actually. She said to tell you she was sorry. That she didn't expect you to ever forgive her but she needed you to know the truth. I don't know what any of that means. She was pretty out of it."

When Tony saw what she was holding, his eyes widened like he was seeing a ghost. "Is that..." he asked, gingerly taking it in his unarmored hand. "It's Mr. Fluffington Rabbit III!" He blushed slightly as he told her the name, and Pepper giggled at how seriously he said it. In his hand was a worn out but well loved stuffed rabbit, it's color faded and the stuffing falling out in places. It was missing an eye and its tail was singed and burnt.

"Don't laugh," Tony continued. "I named him when I was three. I loved this thing so much. I wouldn't sleep without it for the longest time. Then one day when my mother was in one of her worse moods, she took him from me. She said that I cried too much like a baby and that only babies had stuffed animals, and lit his tail on fire with a cigarette lighter before storming into her room with him. It smelt like toxic chemicals. She set the smoke detector off. One of the butlers had to break the door down to get in the room so that she wouldn't light the whole house on fire. I remember some of the staff physically detaining her because she was shouting and screaming. I never saw him again. I thought he was destroyed that day. I was so devastated."

"I'm sorry," said Pepper.

"Don't be," Tony replied. "He didn't burn. And she kept him. Why would she do that?"

"Because she wanted to have a piece of you with her, maybe?" Pepper suggested. "A reminder, or something to connect her to you when she was away?"

"Maybe," Tony said. "Because she loved me."

"In her own way," said Pepper.

"In her own way," Tony agreed. They smiled at one another.

* * *

 

**SOMEWHERE OVER CANADA, AUGUST 1, 1991 - 9:07PM**

Steve closed his eyes and breathed deeply, trying to will away the rattle and vibrations of the plane around them and focus on the thing that mattered most to him - Peggy's hand in his. It was smaller and frailer than he remembered, but he tried not to let that fact get in the way of the moment. She was here. And so was he. And this could be the last time they had together. He tried to focus on that fact as a positive thing and not feel the time slipping away, but it was difficult. He didn't know if he had the strength to lose her again.

"Steve?" he heard her whisper in his ear. He could feel her breath there, and the intimacy of it made him shiver.

"Yes, Peggy?" he asked.

"It isn't your fault," she said.

The question startled him. "What isn't?" he asked.

"Any of it, really," she said. "Schmidt returning. Howard bringing you here. Me being alone. I don't want you blaming yourself for any of it. You need to be able to focus once we land."

Steve opened his eyes to turn his head and look at her. "That's not why I can't focus."

"Oh?" Peggy said. "Well what's wrong, then?

"You know what's wrong," he said. "It's you, Peg. You're here and I don't know how much longer that will be true. And once we're out there, I'm going to worry about you. What if something happens and the future I know you got to have never happens? What if it does? Both options are ones that I don't know if I'll ever get over. Knowing that this is all the time we have together? What am I supposed to do with that?"

"You're supposed to save the world," Peggy said, anger creeping into her voice. "That's what you're supposed to do with that. You're Captain America. You're better than that. You're better than all of us."

"You know, I'm getting tired of hearing that," Steve said bitterly. "Can't everyone else be better for a while? How many sacrifices am I going to have to make in my lifetime? When does it end?"

"Steve," Peggy said, gently, "You'll move on eventually."

"Maybe," Steve said. "I just think sometimes about what it would be like to be selfish. Just for a little while. To give up."

"I'm not worth that," Peggy said.

"But you are," Steve said. As they contemplated that, the mood shifted and Steve seemed to have a new sense of purpose come over him. "I need you to be careful out there, Peggy. I know that you want to help, but the Avengers can handle the fighting. Support only."

"I wasn't planning on taking on Schmidt at my age, but I'm not making any promises. Whatever happens will happen. Besides, someone has to look out for you out there."

"I can take care of myself," Steve said.

"I wasn't talking about this you," Peggy said.

A look of understanding crossed Steve's face. "If anything happens to you..." Steve said, but Peggy cut him off. "It won't," she said. After a moment, she put her head on his shoulder and Steve held onto her tightly, not sure what else to do but to try and enjoy the time they had left.


	28. Chapter 28

**SOMEWHERE OVER CANADA, AUGUST 1, 1991 - 9:25PM**

Still seated on the plane's cabin bench, Tony slid his helmet on, immediately feeling claustrophobic and unhappy that he wasn't able to install a HUD. The two eye holes in the helmet barely allowed him to see anything and his peripheral vision was almost non-existent. He was gambling a lot on his father's satellite network. He hoped it wouldn't fail him. It didn't help that the weather outside the plane was stormy. The turbulence had increased the closer they had gotten to Schmidt's supposed location and lightning occasionally flashed, illuminating the inside of the cabin with an eerie glow. It was not exactly the best circumstance to pick up even a 21st century cell phone signal, let alone pick up a signal in the scenario he found himself in.

He opened a small panel and flipped a switch on his right gauntlet and heard static inside the helmet. "Jarvis?" he asked "You there?"

"Of... sir... I... can you...?" he heard, the message garbled and unintelligible due to static.

Tony adjusted several dials and listened as the pops and hisses began to fade. "Can you hear me, sir?" he finally heard.

"I can hear you now," he said. "Can you hear me alright?"

"Perfectly," came the reply.

"Good," he said. "Let's hope it stays that way, but I doubt it. Are the cameras working?"

Tony could hear the slight whirring noise the pinhole cameras in the helmet made as they adjusted themselves based on Jarvis' controls. They were designed to transmit images from all sides of the suit to Jarvis, allowing him to direct Tony from a distance and act as his peripheral vision.

"They appear fine," said Jarvis. "The left side camera shows me that you are sitting next to Miss Potts. The right side camera and back camera are blocked at the moment, presumably because you are seated. The front camera shows me the wall of the plane. You're sitting near a window. Good thing I'm not there with you because the plane appears to be shaking a great deal, and the weather doesn't look too nice. I'd probably be sick. I hate flying."

As Jarvis spoke, Tony's vision began to narrow and his heart began to pound. "Jesus," he said, "what the hell was I thinking with this! This is nuts. God, I'm going to die aren't I?" he asked.

"Right now?" Jarvis asked in a calm voice. "I doubt it. According to the satellite GPS you're still only just passing over Newfoundland."

"Yeah," Tony said. "Right. Of course. I'm fine."

"You're better than fine, I should think sir. You're Iron Man," said Jarvis. God, that voice. Tony was going to miss it. That thought made him feel bad for the JARVIS he built. He didn't like thinking about his creation as second best. Nothing Tony built was ever anything less than spectacular.

"You've gone awfully quiet. Can you still hear me?" Jarvis asked.

"Yep," Tony said. "I was just thinking about the computer JARVIS, the one I built. About how much I love him. He's not the same though."

"Well he is a computer, and not a person," said Jarvis. "There is a difference you know."

"Blasphemy!" Tony said, only somewhat sarcastically. "Although you're right. He's better. I created him."

"Better than me?" Jarvis asked.

"No,' said Tony. "Never. Nobody's better than you. You're the greatest and I'm going to miss you so much."

"I miss you too, you know," said Jarvis. "Every day. Things could have gone so differently."

"Yeah, they could have," Tony said. "But they didn't. Things happened the way they happened. I'm just so grateful that I got more than what most people ever get. I got a second chance to say goodbye."

"You did," said Jarvis. "I'm very glad for that."

"Are you scared?" Tony asked, his brain barely having a chance to catch up with the question as it left his mouth.

"What would I have to be scared of?" Jarvis asked. "You're the one sitting on an airplane bound for an alien invasion."

"Dying," Tony said. "Really dying. I mean I could die but I don't know that for sure. I can still hope. You know. You must know."

"I do," Jarvis said. "And I'm terrified. Who wouldn't be?"

"I'm so sorry," Tony said.

"Don't be," Jarvis said. "It was worse when I thought the end would come and nobody would care. That I'd just be alone and nobody would remember me. Now, I know the truth. That I left a legacy, that I did something worthwhile with my time on this planet. That I meant something to someone. It makes it easier."

"Not something," said Tony. "Everything. I am who I am because of you. My entire life, everyone looked at me and saw my old man. Wanted me to be him. Personally, I've always been terrified that I was my mom and I think now that my dad was too. You were the first person to ever treat me like I was my own person, like I had an identity separate from them. You encouraged me to have my own interests, to be smart in a different way, to figure out what I loved to do. When you were gone, and then later once they were gone too... I lost that. Or maybe I buried it because it hurt too much and nobody seemed to care. Afghanistan and Iron Man helped me realize the kind of man I wanted to be, helped me re-forge myself into a person I could look at in the mirror and respect. But you shaped me, Jarvis. I need you to know how important you are to me."

"I do now," said Jarvis. "Thank you."

"Alright then," said Tony, "Let's test the outputs and signal strength and make sure we both know what we're doing while there's still time."

* * *

 

  
**SOMEWHERE OVER GREENLAND, AUGUST 1, 1991 - 10:05PM**

“Alright, everyone,” Steve said firmly above the noise of the plane. Everyone looked up from their silent contemplation. “Let’s go over what the hell we’re going to do out there again one last time. There's a lot of moving parts to this plan, and I'm sure you all understand how important this is."

“I thought the last speech before the big game was supposed to be motivational, Cap. Rah Team, and all that?” said Tony.

“Yeah, well I've faced down Schmidt before," Steve said. "Believe me when I tell you that it's not going to be easy to take him out. And that's without the added distraction of two civilians in the middle of the fight and the fact that we're also trying to get home. Sorry if I'm not exactly feeling like we're on the winning team right now. Just do what you're supposed to out there."

"You don't have to worry about me," Tony said solemnly.

"Good," said Steve. "We’ll be landing a good ¼ mile from the site. Iron Man, I want you flying ahead of us. Not too close. Just enough to get an idea of what we’re up against, then report back. The last thing we need is you out of the fight before it begins, and we need to know how many hostiles there are and where the me from this time period's body is in relation to the fighting.”

“I'm on it,” Tony responded.

“Nat and Bruce, you two are staying out of it and hanging back. I need the two of you working to get the machine up and running that will open the portal back for us.”

“I'm still not sure that’s wise, Cap,” Natasha asked. “I know Bruce is needed for set-up, but why leave me with him?”

“Because it may get hectic and I can’t guarantee the fighting will stay contained, and if anything happens with Bruce the last thing we want is for Hulk to smash our only way home,” Steve replied. “No offense, Bruce.”

“Believe me, none taken,” Bruce said.

“That machine is a priority for us,” Steve said. “If Schmidt gets wind of what we’re trying to do or that we have it, he could come after it. I need you there looking out for it. Worst case scenario, Bruce instructed you what to do, right?"

"He did," said Natasha.

"Then you finish the work and the Hulk enters the fray. Are we clear?”

“Makes sense,” Natasha said. “But it leaves you and Tony pretty vulnerable.”

"We'll be backed up by the SSR team," he said, nodding at the three other agents crowded into the cabin of the plane with them in full tactical armor. "And Schmidt should be distracted when he realizes it's me he's fighting. I'll keep him busy."

"And me?" said Pepper.

"You will be with Natasha and Bruce by the machine, away from the fighting," Tony said, cutting Steve off.

"No," Steve said firmly. "I've changed my mind on that, Tony. I want her with Peggy."

"Why?" asked Tony. "She needs to be somewhere safe!"

"And you think she'd potentially be any safer with the Hulk?" Steve asked. "I want Peggy safe as much as you want Pepper safe, Tony, but someone needs to protect me. The me in the ice, I mean. I don't really understand how all this time travel mumbo-jumbo works, but I do know that if I wake up when I'm not supposed to or if anything happens to me in this time, that would be bad," he said. "Right gentlemen?" he asked, sounding more unsure.

"That's right," said Bruce. "We've done enough damage to this era without adding to it."

"That's my thinking too," Steve said. "I'm convinced that you'll be safer with Peggy than with Natasha and Bruce, Miss Potts. Does that sound reasonable?"

"It does," said Pepper. "And I want to help any way I can."

"Excellent," said Steve. Tony didn't look happy, but even he knew that Pepper would be in danger no matter how she helped. "Once Tony scopes out where you need to be," Steve continued, "he'll give you cover while we get you in place. You protect me and get me away from the fighting as best you can. Understood?"

"Yes, sir," said Pepper. The others nodded in agreement.

"Good," said Steve. "Then we're ready." Peggy squeezed his hand in support.

Suddenly, a larger tremor hit the plane, the metal groaning like it was coming apart. The lights flickered, and the entire plane shifted, throwing everyone towards one wall. A boom echoed through the cabin, making everyone's ears ring, and alarms began to blare.

"We've been hit!" yelled the pilot. "Some kind of missile, I think. I'm going to have to take her down!"

"Nice timing with the speech, Cap!" yelled Tony. "Pep!" he yelled, and Pepper grasped his suit for dear life praying that they'd actually live to see the fight ahead of them.

"Everybody hang on! Grab onto something!" yelled Steve, hugging Peggy to him. Everybody gripped onto the benches or to any piece of the plane that they could get a hold on. "This could get a little rough! Bruce..." he yelled.

"I'm on it, Cap," he said, moving towards the emergency doors. "Natasha, do you remember my instructions?"

"You can count on me," Natasha said.

"Good," Bruce said, opening the emergency door and feeling the rush of air leaving the cabin. "Get us home," he yelled. "All of us." He let go and allowed himself to fall out of the plane as it continued to descend quickly, hoping for the second time in his life that his best laid plans to rid himself of the Hulk hadn't worked.


	29. Important Update From the Author!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **SPOILERS IN THE NOTE BELOW FOR CIVIL WAR! PLEASE BE CAUTIOUS! DO NOT READ IF YOU HAVE NOT YET SEEN IT AND BEWARE THE UPDATED TAGS!**

So... here we are. It's been a while since I've updated, and the reason is this: The MCU literally has given me a bountiful and joyous examination of all of these headcanons in great detail, and I am honestly struggling with what this fic can now contribute to the overall universe.

When I started it, it was just before Captain America: The Winter Soldier hit. I figured based on rumours of upcoming Infinity Wars plots and of what Iron Man 3 and Thor: The Dark World had contributed to canon that we were likely never going to see much of Peggy Carter, Howard Stark, or Tony's family in the canon continuity again. I suspected that the idea that Jarvis had been a real butler would never be touched, and had no idea that Paul Bettany would ever get to actually show up onscreen as anyone. And so it was important to me to fill in those aspects of characterization that I feared would be marginalized or in the background but never properly explored.

Then, Winter Soldier came out. And, fair enough, SHIELD fell and some post-Avengers headcanons got annihilated. But also, we got hints that the MCU might explore the death of the Starks. 

And then, Agent Carter was announced. And we got a full butler Jarvis played by the amazing James D'Arcy who I adore, and we got to see so much more of Agent Carter's post-Cap life, and we got more of the fantastically fun 1940's Howard Stark played by Dominic Cooper.

Again, no complaints. Just pure joy and amazement.

Then, we even got more of John Slattery's older Howard Stark and an older Peggy in Ant-Man!

And now... now I'm just sitting here with ALL of the post-Civil War Tony feels. Because they actually CGI'd a young Robert Downey Jr. to show 21 year old Tony's last moments with his parents. And we got to see those brutal, painful final moments. And we got a Tony Stark seeking revenge on Steve and Bucky because it turns out he was likely a mama's boy after all, and the MCU decided to revel in Tony's feels as an orphan, and use those feels to connect him to Peter, to connect him to Steve.

So... what do I do now? What could my little fic with it's wildly different portrayals of a butler Jarvis, of a Tony having a complicated relationship with his dad, of it's manic depressive Maria, possibly really have to say at this point that canon hasn't really made irrelevant.

**TELL ME, I'M ASKING! _I need you, the reader, to tell me if you think I should keep going with this, or if I should just let it rest, and give me a reason to continue. If enough people express an interest and let me know it's worth it, I will update. But if not, I'm going to sit back and just appreciate how much the MCU cares enough about the same characterizations I love and adore and write other fic in the MCU that demands to be written (I need all of the Scott Lang/Luis fics, and all of the Tony and Rhodey friendship fluff) guilt-free._**


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